21st Century Camelot
by KayDrew
Summary: What would happen if everyone got transported to modern England? What would they do? How would things be different? Could they get back? It's co-written my sparrowsmagician, Numb3rsfan, and myself! Story is being edited! Please R&R! Updating and editing chapters.
1. Prolgue: Magic Amiss

**Author's Note: The prologue was written by sparrowsmagician**.

Her heels click as she slowly glides down the hall of the great castle in Camelot. Her toes tap in a perfect rhythm against the stone and the melody soothes the lady's raging thoughts. Her hands are clasped in front of her in a regal fashion with each cautious step. Her eyes dart left and right. She is on edge because of a particularly nosey manservant.

Her heels continue to tap and after a quick glance behind her Morgana brings her hand up to her head, fingering the stitches found in her skull. Her eyes close as the words of her not father wash over her. She is nothing more than a ward…a woman who will be looked after, but never fully taken into the house of Pendragon.

Her thoughts swirl and mesh as the realization of her misfortune push down upon her shoulders. She continues her walk, a few birds outside sing to each other. Morgana has the urge to shoot them with a bow and arrow. She used to love to hear birds sing, but now their noise is nothing more than a deep annoyance, a reminder of the box she has found herself in.

She looks behind her again. She can never be too careful these days. Her fingers come back to her wound, the remembrance of the fall haunting the young woman. It was as if the candleholder took on a life of its own as it crashed into her and sending her down those stairs like forgotten laundry. She remembers a look of absolute fear taking over her being, the fall harsh and powerful. She can still hear her skull cracking and her flesh ripping.

She wrings her hands again, sitting at one of the windows. She takes a breath to block out the pain, the fear. She spots her idiotic…brother? Her eyes soften. What a ridiculous thing to call him. He is technically her kin, but Arthur has never been her brother. All those years of flirting and reassurance that one day they would be joined in marriage play in her head. Gwen even said that she would be queen one day, and now that servant will sit upon her throne…

Morgana fists her skirt at the thought. All those years of being the perfect princess and what does she have to show for it? A man who claims to be her father shuns her; she watches as her people get persecuted daily; and she has to live this dreadful double life and pretend to actually like these insignificant fools. She breaths slowly through her nose, her anger elevates.

Her eyes fall on that annoying manservant. His face is a mask of giddy happiness, as if he had done something heroic recently. He is nothing more than an interfering annoyance. She watches him from above, like a hawk sizing up its prey. He is laughing with her moron of a prince. Both men seem to share a joke, for the manservant is holding his sides in joy. She watches as Arthur pushes Merlin in a brotherly fashion, their eyes dancing in merriment. She wants to crush him.

He is telling Arthur something, but she can the man is not listening. The manservant has reduced himself to hand gestures, and the witches eyes darken. His hands…they used to be tools to create and love. She remembers how they turned on her and became evil in a matter of moments; they committed such an awful transgression. His hands are sinners. She remembers them the best from that day, their connection to the sheepskin water pouch that held her fate. She recalls her fingers brushing with his as he handed her the container of death. His eyes were so kind, so honest. Why would she ever doubt such a man?

Morgana's teeth grind at the memory. Her nails dig into the hard stone as the moment of death flashes before her. He had turned as she started to gasp for breath, struggling to understand why he would betray her in such a way. What she had done to deserve such a fate? His eyes looked so sad, so remorseful. It reminded her of the last time he looked so helpless in front of her. A time when she was scared of her magic and he sought her out desperate for her to return to Camelot. She was happy with the druids, those few hours felt like a lifetime of peace. She had gone with him, and part of her knew that good, honest Merlin could lead her anywhere and she would follow. He was her savior during that time, helping her when everyone else had turned their backs.

His arms felt weak as they held her, as she struggled to push him away. Her breath felt so out of reach, so far from where she could find salvation. He nodded to her, but she didn't understand, she missed something. The doors clanged behind her as her throat constricted and her desire to live diminished. She had died that day. Ger faith and love had died with her. In her place awoke a woman of revenge or righteousness. One who saw no limits to what she would do to claim the throne.

She was always unsure of whether to help her sister or not, Merlin helped sway her in the correct direction. In her time away, she saw the faults of Arthur. His past actions against children who simply possessed gifts were disgusting enough, let alone what he would do in the future once he was king. Arthur could not be trusted with the task. Too much blood was already settled on his hands. He was his father, and would do anything to please the man…even kill.

She took a moment to stare at Merlin again, her eyes dark and powerful, and the knowledge that she was so close to controlling her magic sends sparks down to her fingertips. She looks out, the sun is setting. Morgause will be expecting her soon. Her gaze falls to Merlin again. To make sure he is still with her pratty…brother. If he is distracted, it will make sneaking away easier. She sends him one more insidious look before she disappears into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgana arrives in the clearing her sister had told her to go to, her long green cloak secured tightly around her. She smiles as her eyes fall upon her kin and she runs into the woman's arms.

"Morgana, I am glad to see you well."

The younger girl looks up in admiration. "Yes, it has been a trying few days but I am better. What is it that you require sister?"

The blonde woman's smirk is sinister as she pulls out a scroll. She hands it to Morgana and the younger woman's eyes widen.

"This is-"

"A time bending spell. It is of ancient power and is used to bend time to the speakers will. It is a very powerful spell and needs to be performed with very powerful sorcerers and priestesses…and we are two of those."

Morgana's eyes darken at the parchment. It is almost too good to be true, with the ability to bend time to her will she can go back, change moments, destinies. Her eyes fall to Morgause.

"What is it you plan to do with it sister?"

"I was hoping we could use it to stop time. I want to send in an army and if all of Camelot is frozen it will be an easy siege. With this parchment Uther could blink and the next moment we could be standing in front of him, swords drawn."

Morgana's eyes widen, her smirk deepens. What a brilliant idea. "I endorse this sister, how soon till we get an army?"

"Ah, you know how Cenred is. He is already to go back in. When I presented him with this he was more than willing to attack Camelot again."

"It is a good thing you kept him around then isn't it sister?"

Morgause smiles. "It is, isn't it? The only thing he demands is we use the spell first, to make sure it works correctly."

Morgana nods, her smirk is treacherous. "I do not disagree. Would you like to try it out now?"

Morgause pulls out a back, inside are old bones. Morgause holds her hands out for Morgana to take. Both women clasp their fingers together over the bag and start to shake the contents, the bones mixing with the lavender and thyme she had picked earlier. As the ingredients shake Morgana feels her magic pulsating, the ancient words of the spell running over both priestesses.

_Am é ach fhírinne shimplí  
Flowing breis agus as radharc  
Tabhair dúinn chumhacht a rialú anocht am!_

As the spell falls from their lips, Morgana feels a strong power engulf her as if time itself is fighting against the ancient magics. She feels it again, the constriction of her throat, the desperate gasping of air, her body is suddenly consumed in light, the blast reaching out and moving the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ana's eyes open with a start, her breath coming out heavy and raged. She grips the bench behind her for support, her body shaking from the waves of memories mixing together. There are no people in the park, the hour was late. She had just had a nasty fight with her boyfriend and had come here to think. She moves over to the trashcan, her stomach emptying into the waste basket. The world around her suddenly feels surreal. As if everything she believed real is unreal and everything she believed fake is truth.

She looks to the sky, her eyes glisten as the tears fall down her soft cheeks. She can feel her breath become shallow, her throat constricts. Her hand reaches towards the heavens, desperate to touch those blue eyes that haunt her, that destroy her. The last thing she remembers are the stars, and a massive cut appears on her palm.

**Note 2: So what exactly has happened? You'll just have to wait and see! On Ana is Morgana by the way. By the way, this story is based on a thread here on here (remove the spaces to get the link: camelotchronicles. proboards index.c gi**


	2. Chapter 1: A Rocky Ride

Late one night, a dark-haired young man named Martin Mysak (Marty for short) sped through the bustling streets of modern London on a red motorcycle. He was crouched low on the vehicle; his black jean-clad legs squeezed the sides of the roaring machine as he pressed his booted toe on the gas pedal.

Whipping around the honking cars, he kept looking behind him. His blue eyes sparkled and flashed with the electric lights of the city. Spying a black Jaguar following him, the young man cursed under his breath. "Bloody hell," he whispered. "Not again." Yanking the handle, he took a side road in hopes to shake off the car tailing him for probably the hundredth time in the last two years.

Getting through the alleyway, Marty glanced around as he continued speeding along. "Crap," he whispered as the dark-haired man not only saw the car, but also the flashing lights of a police car. Both were tailing him.

Afraid to stop, Martin just kept going until he came to a stop light. While reckless, he did try to follow the rules of the road. With his head turned the other way, another car sped directly towards him as it ran a stop sign. As the car hit him, Marty went flying. He screamed when he hit, face first, and slid.

The first thing Marty was aware of was a warm wash cloth pressing on one of his eyes. It was swiped over it and then the same thing was done to his other eye. Even with the gunk wiped from his eyes, everything was blurry. He couldn't seem to visually focus on anything. He could hear everything around him - the click of shoes on linoleum, the squeak of wheels, the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead, the beep of the monitors, and the hiss-fizz of a breathing machine. He was also aware of a tube in his mouth. With a clipped finger he pointed to it.

"Yes, we're going to remove it," said his uncle. His wrinkled face loomed over Marty. He had a concerned look in his light gray eyes. "Are you ready?"

Marty was ready. He could never ever explain how ready he was. He wanted to leave this place. He hated hospitals and being stuck in a place. If the tube was put of him he might be able to go away sooner rather than later.

"All right take a deep breath in and then blow out as hard as you can. You're going to have a sore throat. I have ice chips for you," Gael said.

After Marty nodded his dark head, he breathed in, breathed out, and then coughed as the tube came out. "What happened? How long?" he rasped.

"You had a bad accident. Your bike's fine. Your head not so much. I had to put you into a coma to let the swelling reduce. You've been out of it for about a week," explained the doctor. He patted Martin's shoulder. "I need to go check on my other patients. If you need anything, hit your buzzer. I will be around later. Your roommate will be come back in soon. I think he had a test."

Marty groaned. A roommate - jut what he needed or wanted. Tired and irritated, Marty pulled his knees up to his chest. He rested his chin on his knees as he tried to decide what to do next.

He stayed in the bed for only five extra minutes after his uncle had left and then, the sullen man swung his legs over the side of the bed. When a wave of dizziness clouded his vision, Marty stayed still and deep breathed. Calmer, Marty looked to his arm where the I.V. stuck in his vein. He was so pale that Marty could see the needle. Grabbing a tissue, he pulled the thing out of him and dropped it. As the tubing and needle dangled in midair, the medicine dripped from its end. Yanking the oxygen from his nose, he slapped the tissue on his arm, and stood.

The man went to the cupboard and opened it. There were his clothes and boots. His outfit looked clean, but bloodstains still were splattered all over the black leather. It didn't matter. Stripping off his gown, he pulled on his black t-shirt and jeans. Usually, Marty just slipped into his boots, but his head was throbbing, thus he sat down to slip them on. Snapping the leather bands around his wrist, the hospital bracelet was concealed.

Like he used to do as a teenager, Marty stuffed blankets and pillows under his covering and shaped it to look like he was in bed. Martin doubted it would fool people for very long, but he didn't plan on being gone for more than a half hour. He just had to see his bike.

Stuffing his hands into his pocket, Marty headed out of the room. Even though his walk was shaky, he managed to move with some swiftness and determination. In fact, no nurse or doctor attempted to stop him. That kind of shocked him. *There needs to be better staffing or at least more alert ones,* mused the man as he left Kingdom Hospital.

He soon found himself in front of the police station, which was near the impound place. Marty didn't know if his bike was there, but it seemed like a good place to look first. Now, he just had to find the dump. Looking around, he spotted a familiar blonde and groaned. "Oh great," moaned Martin.

**(Can you guess who the characters are? Please R&R!)**


	3. Chapter 2: Coming Together

Bradley sat as his desk mulling over the police report and pictures from the bad accident that had happened almost a week ago. The accident had involved a small car (or what Bradley would describe as a 'box on wheels'), as well as a motorbike. The bike didn't belong to just anyone, it belonged to the one person that Bradley could not stand; Marty. Even now Bradley couldn't explain how the bike looked completely unharmed, yet the car was barely recognizable as a car. The two occupants in the car, as well as Marty himself had been taken to the hospital, and while Bradley didn't care about Marty, he knew that both occupants in the car were in critical condition.

"That kid never learns." Bradley muttered to himself. He wanted to see Marty go down for the MVC (Motor Vehicle Collision) because he sure that Marty had caused it, even though no one was sure what actually caused the MVC.

Bradley was sure it was Marty because of the fact that he knew Marty was capable of doing so.

Feeling a vibration in his pocket Bradley reached in and removed his cellphone, glancing at the caller ID. It was his father. Sighing, Bradley pushed the 'ignore' button before putting his phone back in his pocket. He was in no mood to talk to his father that day, and his attitude proved it.

Closing the file Bradley stood up and grabbed his black leather coat from the back of his chair. Slipping in to it he headed outside to get some fresh air.

The night was calm and clear when Bradley stepped outside. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment. The air smelled of the usual grease and gasoline that was the city, but besides that it also had another more unusual smell; the smell of something sweet and clean.

Reaching in to his pocket Bradley withdrew the keys to his black undercover patrol car. Up ahead a large golden retriever was crossing the road in the single location where the street lights didn't shine. An oncoming car was speeding down the road in question and it was all too obvious that one of it's headlights was out.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Bradley having reached his car was fumbling for the correct key to open the car door, while the speeding car suddenly veered to miss the dog that was in the road.

Tires squealed in protest as the car fish tailed in the direction of Bradley's car, seemingly gaining momentum as it went.

* * *

Hearing the squealing of the tires Bradley looked up just in time to see the lone headlight of the car shining right in his face. He raised his right hand and pointed it at the car as if that would do anything to stop it.

The last thing Bradley remembered was the feeling of disappointment growing in him as the car got ever closer to him.

Marty ducked his head down. He didn't want that prick, well prat, Bradley Pendleton, to see him. Frankly, he didn't want anyone to see him. He wasn't supposed to be out of the hospital nor did he know when he would be getting released.

The young man was actually regretting leaving. He was quickly tiring. His head throbbed. He couldn't see very well. His hand tingled with numbness. He didn't feel too good. It all just really sucked. Marty was starting to think of turning back when he saw the dog as well as the speeding car.

Instincts took over and he found himself running across the street as fast as his feet would carry him. To his surprise and to his pounding head's dismay, he reached it in record time. "You clotpole, move your arse," Marty shouted as he shoved Bradley mostly out of the way of the oncoming car.

He wasn't sure, but he thought that maybe Bradley's foot was still in the road. However, he was in no condition or state to look. When he pushed Brad out of the street, his body went down with him. Marty's black-haired head hit the pavement and he screamed and screamed and screamed until his already parched throat was raw.

The lone headlight was so bright that it almost seemed to burn Bradley's retina. However just when Bradley thought he would die he felt hands on him, shoving him out of the way. Falling to the pavement with a groan, Bradley felt the car's tire whiz over his ankle, snapping the bone in two. Bradley yelped once, in complete shock over what happened. He lay there for a moment, not even daring to guess what had happened.

Gulping in a breath, Bradley felt himself shake a little. What the hell had just happened? Was it a guardian angel that had pushed him out of the way? Sitting up as much as he could Bradley heard the pained voice that was within arm's reach of him. It didn't take a genius to guess who the voice belonged to. It was Marty; the idiot that Bradley really despised. Pain was coursing through Bradley's leg, but even so he managed to put a hand on Marty's shoulder.

Martin instinctively drew his knees up to his chest and grabbed the sides of his head. The pain was unbearable. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Sweat drenches his reddening face. And as he held his head, he could feel wetness – blood. "Make it stop," he panted.

"Take it easy Marty...help will be here any minute," Bradley murmured. He had no doubt that someone would have called for an ambulance because...honestly...who has a wreck right in front of police headquarters and it isn't immediately reported?

Grimacing Bradley put his hand on Marty's head, pulling it away when he felt blood on it. It was then that he knew the injury to the lad was serious. "Just don't you go dying on me. I don't want to have to put that in my report," Bradley muttered.


	4. Chapter 3: Pains

Pain – that was Marty's whole world at this second. It mind numbing, maddening, and all encompassing. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel the pavement below him. He couldn't see the blinding light of streetlamps or office buildings. All there was in front of him was whiteness and a blurred form of a being. His ears were buzzing, but through it, he could hear talking.

Marty couldn't take it and snapped his eyes shut. He held them tightly closed. He could see gold and red and then a dragon and a cape and a rock with a sword. What the…. He'd seen too much of 'The Sword and the Stone' as a young lad. That was it.

The brooding man opened his eyes to tiny slits. He still couldn't see very well, but things were a little clearer. He could kind of tell who was talking to him. "Oh great," he muttered in recognition. Behind Bradley was a one-headlight car – parked across the street.

"It hurts," he gasped when told to take it easy. Marty's breathing was labored and he found he was struggling for air even though he thought his lungs were working fine. It was just the ache that was making his breath catch in his throat. "God, it hurts. Make it stop."

He screwed his eyes up as dizziness caused everything in his periphery swim and swirl. As Bradley placed a hand on his shoulder, he instinctively and defensively pulled his arm away and scrunched his shoulders tighter together so that he was in an even smaller ball.

It should have been expected when Marty pulled away, as well as the hostility that he had just received.

"Listen, Martin!" Bradley began in his authoritative voice. He then stopped, realizing that speaking in that tone of voice would get him nowhere. Grinding his teeth for a moment, Bradley forced himself to come down several notches and speak to Marty in a civil tone; the man had saved his life after all.

The dark haired man winced when Bradley used his full name as well as yelled at him. "Don't," he breathed. "Not so loud." The man pressed his hands against the sides of his head to relieve not only so,e of the pain, but to fain plugging his ears.

He glared at Bradley. "Don't care why we're having the conversation. I don't care if you like me or not," Marty said. "I just want the pain to go away." As the lamppost's light started to hurt his head even more, he closed his eyes.

Marty furrowed his brow into a scowl as he began to shake; the night air was cool and he was going into shock. "Why do you care? You hate me," the dark-haired man asked. "I sure don't…care. No one would miss me."

"Marty. I may dislike you...quite a bit a times but that doesn't mean I hate you. If I hated you, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Bradley said, trying to put that last bit in some sort of joking manner. "You saved my life...why, I have no clue but you did and I can't ignore that." Bradley said.

At the mention of saving Brad's life and why he did it, Marty shrugged. "Don't know why. It just seemed like the thing to do. Wasn't thinking," he muttered. His words were starting to slur."Besides, the car wasn't meant for you. I was the target. You just got in the way."

"Sir!"

Bradley looked up to see Officer Alex Munro and several other officers running up towards the incident scene. "Oh great..." Bradley muttered.

"Sir! The paramedics have been called and they're on their way. Oh sir, I did take the liberty of contacting your father...he's very worried about you!" Officer Munro exclaimed.

Hearing that, Bradley froze for a moment before fixing Alex with a glare. "Whoa, whoa, whoa...back up for a second. You mean to tell me that you called my father?" Bradley asked. Seeing Alex nod his head, Bradley clinched his left hand so tight that he felt his muscles pop.

This was just great! He could totally see his father's overprotecting manner that was nothing short of a general annoyance! Thankfully before Bradley could say anything the ambulance showed up and the paramedics jumped out. After checking on their two patients, both were then prepared for transport to the hospital (or in Marty's case back to the hospital).

As the officers talked, Marty zoned out. The last thing he remembered before passing out was being loaded on a stretcher. Quickly, they were delivered to the ER and when they got there, Gael was ready to examine them.


	5. Chapter 4: Sordid Truth

"That boy! He shouldn't have even been up. Five minutes out of a coma and he waltzes off the property," grumbled Gael as Marty was wheeled to the MRI by one nurse and Gael wheeled Bradley to X-ray. "Sorry about that, my name is Dr. Mysak. I'll be your doctor. What exactly happened? I heard you were with my stubborn nephew when you were hit."

The drive to the hospital was short and sweet; thankfully. Once they got there, Bradley was separated from Marty; not that he cared one way or the other. Marty was being his stuck-up self, which Bradley couldn't help but notice was one of the reasons he found the young man so annoying!

On his way to X-Ray Bradley met with the doctor that would be taking care of him. The doctor seemed nice enough despite the circumstances, even though Bradley was taken aback for a moment when the doctor informed him that Marty was his nephew.

Telling what happened to a civilian wasn't normally high on Bradley's list of things to do, but this person wasn't just a civilian, he was a doctor and as such he deserved to know what happened. "I'm not exactly sure what happened. I was walking to my car, another car was approaching. I think the driver lost control or something. Anyway, the car fishtailed and started sliding towards me. Next thing I know. your nephew is grabbing me. He threw me away from the approaching vehicle. Dr. Mysak, I don't know why, but...your nephew saved my life." Bradley said.

The man nodded. "I see and I'm guessing the car rode over your ankle. While saving your life was admirable and like the old Marty, it was not the brightest move…at least for his head," Gael replied. "He used to not be like the boy you see before you. He wasn't reckless, careless, or apathetic, but he's lost a lot of people in his life. Marty used to bring a smile to anyone. He's lighten the room in an instant. He was a good boy."

Gael looked at Bradley's face from the top of the gurney. He saw the shock the blonde-haired man had at the news. "Yes, for better or for worse, he is my nephew," said the man with a sigh. "But only by blood. He's chosen his path and I can't support it. Martin could've done a lot with his life. Both Cambridge and Oxford wanted him, as did Yale, Harvard, and Brown in the States. Quite the artist and musician that lad is, but he's wasting his time. He doesn't care."

Bradley didn't know what to think now. He had originally thought that Marty had been brought up wrong, as most kids in his situation had! But to find out that something else had caused him to go down the path he had chosen, it made the police officer see him in a new light...if only for a moment.

He paused before asking something that was on his mind. "What did you mean when you said 'five minutes out of a coma?' Were you meaning that Martin had walked out of the hospital only moments after coming out of a coma?"

"I meant what I said. He was only out of a coma for five minutes before up and leaving. He didn't have permission. In fact, he wasn't going to be released for another week. He didn't tell anyone. I think he wanted to see that bike of his – his father's bike. Marty has an odd way of bouncing back from accidents. I've never seen anything quite like it. It's remarkable," Gael explained. "I'm sure you're aware of the car and motorcycle accident that Martin was apart from? He got a serious concussion. His brain swelled so greatly that I put him in a medically induced coma. I brought him from the coma only an hour ago. Right now, any fall could be fatal."

A dark skinned and dark haired young nurse raced from the MRI room. "Dr. Mysak, oh thank heavens. There's a problem. Mr. Mysak…the motorcyclist…" she stammered. The young girl kept looking at Bradley.

"Gwen what's wrong? What's happening to Martin?"

"He's seizing…"

"Give him 5mg of Diazepam. If that doesn't work in 10 minutes .5 mg of Klonopin. You should also reserve the neurosurgical suite," said Gael. Gwen nodded and headed back into the MRI room as Gael drove Bradley to the X-Ray Room.

When Gwen came in and told the doctor that his nephew was seizing, Bradley had been about to dismiss the doctor so he could tend to his nephew when the doctor said what he did about the x-ray.

"Dr. Mysak, go treat your nephew. He needs you a lot more than he needs me at the moment." Bradley said. He meant every word of it, though he was still wondering why he meant every word of it. What was Marty to him? He had arrested the kid for crying out loud!

Perhaps it was hearing of Marty's plight that had struck a chord with the young officer; which coming from Bradley was rare. "Make sure Mer...uh...Martin is well looked after." Bradley said. Bradley scratched his head wondering what the hell he had been about to say. Mer? Who the heck was that? The kid's name was Martin! Martin! Not Mer!

At the suggestion, the doctor shook his head. "I can't. He's my not patient," explained Gael.

"He's mine. Good call on the Diazepam and Klonopin though. I would've done the same thing," said an elderly doctor. She had her sandy-blond hair braided away from her face, revealing a kind smile, rosy cheeks, and bright blue eyes.

"I know. We trained together, Aggie," said the elderly man.

"How could I forget? Dr. Mysak, you always were getting me into trouble by doing things…differently," quipped Aggie.

"It worked, didn't it, Dr. Donegal," Gael asked. After she nodded, he turned his attention back to Bradley. "Bradley, this is Martin's doctor - renowned neurosurgeon Dr. Aggie Donegal. He's in good hands."

"Nice to meet you," said Aggie before heading to the MRI room.

"Hi." Bradley said when Dr. Donegal spoke to him. In fact that was about all he had time for because after he had said 'hi,' Dr. Donegal had turned and left.

"Dr. Donegal is not nicknamed Dr. Gonegal for nothing. She goes in and out as quick as possible. Little for talking when there's a crisis. I'm sure you'll see her about. She checks on her patients often," explained Gael right after Aggie left the room. "She doesn't like to waste time."

"Now, I need you to get on the table. With my help, do you think you can do it? Don't put any pressure on that foot and ankle. I don't want a worse break," said the doctor.

"Now, I think you need me more than Martin does. He's in capable hands, as I said. I'd trust her with my life," said the doctor. "Although, I'm not sure how you think that he needs you right now, sire – at least not right now. He's going to need a friend though, afterwards. He needs something to live for – a purpose maybe. With the death of his girlfriend, best friend, and father all within the last two years, he's shut himself down and created a wall."

Shrugging his shoulders, Bradley then laid eyes on the x ray table. Taking a deep breath he gently if not uneasily got up on to its cold surface.

A pensive look was on the man's face. "I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what got into me. None of that is important," said Gael as Bradley attempted to get up after calling Martin, 'Mer'. That bit made him raise an eyebrow "Oh, no you don't! Let me help you."

Before Brad could protest, Gael placed him on the table. Laying a black board under the foot and ankle, he went and took an x-ray. He did that several times before reading them.

"You're lucky. It's a clean break – no surgery. However, I will need to put a cast on it and I'd like you to stay in the hospital for a few days," said the man.

Afterward things happened in a flash. First he was given a little background on Martin, then he was helped on to the x-ray table and several x-rays were performed on his leg and foot and then Dr. Mysak read the x-rays and then...

"Wait, hold up..." Bradley said. Of all things he could have said in reply to the statement that the doctor had made, he chose this one. "Sire? Why in the world would you call me that? I know you said it wasn't important, but out of everything in the world that I have been called from family and foe alike...'Sire' is something new."

As Gael looked through the gauze and cast material, he glanced up when Bradley called out. "Sire? Did I say that? I suppose it's a slip of the tongue. I meant to say, 'Sir'. There's quite a lot of activity going on right now," explained the man.

While he waited for Dr. Mysak to reply, Bradley began mulling over what else the doctor had said. Martin had lost a lot of people; girlfriend, close friend, and his father all within two years. Losing someone was never fun; it was downright hard and cruel. Bradley himself had lost men on the force. Being the one to contact that person's next of kin was never fun. And then there was the loss that he himself had suffered; the loss of his mother, and he had to keep telling himself that just because he had never met her didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

Bradley had chosen to close himself off as much as possible to the world, well...at least as much as he job would allow. He had one best friend; Lance. Lance was like a brother to him in a way. Then there was Lee. Lee wasn't a cop he was more of a detective but more often than not he worked with Bradley and Lance.

Snapping out of his self-induced revelry Bradley suddenly remembered something else the doctor had said. "You want me to stay in the hospital for several days..." he muttered quietly, "Doctor...I have to get back out there. I have so much that I need to do..."

He was hoping, almost begging Doctor Mysak to let him out of the hospital, but he sincerely doubted that would have any effect on the doctor because after studying the doctor's face he found he was receiving something he could only describe as: 'The Eyebrow.'

Gael went to work gathering the gauze and other supplies. "Yes, I do. Up to a week here and then three weeks of home bed rest. Then, you may go back to work, but only doing desk work. It might not be a compound fracture, but it still is a break. You need time to heal," said the man with raised eyebrows and an unperturbed look upon his face. "Besides, you're not the only cop on the force. They can spare one man for a month."

"Now, I need to wrap that leg of yours," said Gael, holding up the red and gold cast material. "I'm sorry for the look. It's the only colors we have left." Kneeling, Gael propped the leg on his knee. He first wrapped it in gauze and then wrapped it with the red and gold. He altered the colors to make a red and yellow stripe. Once it was up to his calf, he held onto it until it set. Gael then helped Bradley onto the gurney and took him to his room. There, he let the nurses take over getting him into the bed.


	6. Chapter 5: The Extent of Things

_A week, he was stuck in that hospital room for a week! Oh the injustice!_ Bradley with folded arms glanced down at his bandaged leg. The red and gold were bright, not dull in color, which truth-be-told were his two favorite colors...well, next to black, of course. Being honest with himself Bradley knew that the cast was the best looking thing he was wearing. The hospital gown was less than appealing with its 'open back', but he had managed to tie it.

When the nurses had gotten him situated, one of them had quite literally stripped him of his street clothes and belongings, placing the items in a paper sack and the clothes in a plastic sack, before helping him get into the gown. It had been embarrassing, because Bradley had known how to get dressed for quite some time and now he had been helped in to a God awful shirt that looked as if it had come from an abandoned insane asylum.

Some officers had come by shortly after the nurses had left, just to check on him. Bradley hadn't been too thrilled with the visit, nor the scrawl they had left on his cast. All except one though. The one thing he did like was the picture of a dragon flapping its wings. The dragon didn't have eyes or scales; it just looked flat and elegant on the cast.

Several hours later, Marty was rolled into the same room he'd left earlier in the day. His eyes were cracked slightly and his mouth was open, which made him look a little absent minded. There was gauze wrapped around his head, too. Aggie checked the dressing and then she checked little cuts, scrapes, and bruises that covered his face, arms, and legs from the previous accident.

She eyed the other man in the bed. "Hello again," she said. Worry shined in her eyes. "How are you feeling? You both are quite lucky to be alive. That was quite a night for the two of you, eh?"

Hours went by and Bradley had nothing to do but try and sleep or flip through the television channels. Finally the door to his room opened up and a doctor, several nurses and a gurney came in to the room. After one glance Bradley knew who was in the gurney.

Studying the young man Bradley saw that he had definitely been worked over. "_He's sure not going to heal from that in a hurry_," Bradley told himself. Bradley tore his gaze away from Martin and fixed it upon Aggie when she spoke to him.

"Doing about as well as can be expected considering what happened. How is he?" Bradley asked.

At the comment about the wound not healing quickly, Aggie chuckled. She didn't look up, although she did reply. "Yes, you're quite right. He won't be healed up in a hurry," she replied. The woman doctor finished typing up some of the information before looking at Bradley. She sighed as she moved around the bed, careful to not jar the patient by bumping into the frame.

"Yes, I suppose that's right. You're lucky. Mr. Mysak…Martin wasn't as fortunate as you," explained Aggie. Her eyes, while soft and gentle, held a serious and grave glint to him. She also looked tired and spent from the long surgery.

She looked at the battered and bruised, dark-haired young man in the bed. His face was puffy, both from the recent surgery and from the accident. His eyes were mere slits, but a little of the blue still shined through. And his lips were agape and he was mouthing something. Aggie then turned her attention back to Bradley.

"He's was in a quite serious accident last week, as you are very well aware of. At that time, he was placed into a coma so his brain could swell without causing damage. He was only just woken today. His head hadn't had time to heal and so, the fall put insult to injury. Usually falling so soon after a concussion proves fatal. Even if he lives through the night, it will be touch and go for some time," Aggie explained.

She paused and cleared his throat. "He had quite extensive swelling. He also suffered a mild stroke due to the impact – that is a fancy way of saying he had a brain bleed. I had to remove part of his skull to give the brain some room. Once it goes down, he'll have a second surgery to fix that. However, in the meantime, it'll have to be wrapped and kept extra clean because there is a high risk of infection," the doctor continued. "I stopped the bleeding and I don't expect any serious long term affects from the event. He'll probably have some weakness and numbness, but he's young and with time those things might go away."

Dr. Donegal planted her hands on her hips as she eyed the blonde-haired man. "Now, sir, you have a very important job. If he happens to wake and complains his head hurts or if he starts seizing or vomiting or even looks like he's in pain, ring the nurse. Can you do that," she asked.

How he managed to keep a straight face as the doctor was explaining the state of the man in the other bed, Bradley had no idea. He never knew the extent of Martin's injuries, but now that he knew exactly what was going on, one question came to mind. Just what the hell was Martin doing at the police station in the first place?!

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye on him." Bradley told Aggie. He glanced at Martin once more. He was still on Bradley's 'Bad List' but now the cop could see why the younger man was acting the way he was. It made Bradley think; if he had gone through everything Martin had, would he be the same way? Bradley had his father. The man was hard to get along with, but he was still his father. Who did Martin have? Probably no one; besides his uncle, who apparently was quite busy a lot of the time.

It seemed to Bradley that all Martin needed was someone he could count on; a friend perhaps and while Bradley knew Martin would be a hard sell for that idea, he had to try. Bradley had never tried to play the 'good cop' before, but for Martin's sake he had to try.

"Good luck. He shouldn't be too much trouble right now. He's still sedated and coming out of anesthesia," she said. "However, from what Dr. Mysak said, he bounces back exceedingly fast. I wouldn't be surprised if he was talking coherently within an hour or two. His eyes are already open."

She checked the computer and then logged off. "The majority of his injuries happened with the second incident. The first one only involved a moderate concussion," she explained. "He probably would've been out in a couple days if he'd just stayed put. He doesn't do that though, does he?"

"If you need anything, hit the red button," said Aggie. "I'll be in tomorrow to check on Martin. Sleep well!" With a slight wave, she left the room.


	7. Chapter 6: Pep Talk

Sure enough, within the hour, Martin had made a noise as he moved his bandaged head. However, he wasn't talking quite coherently. "Ow," he moaned. "Where am I? Where's the dragon?

The hour seemed to creep by. At first Bradley tried to read a National Geographic magazine that was near his bed, but he quickly got bored with that. Then he switched on the television and after watching two episodes of Mr. Bean, he turned the television off and started to crack his knuckles.

He had only been doing that for two minutes when he heard the moan coming from the other bed. Glancing over he watched Marty start to move around. "Take it easy, you are in the hospital, and as far as I know there are no dragons here unless some doctor has a bad temper," Bradley said. He watched Marty closely, his hand poised over the red button, ready to call a nurse if Marty started to go crazy.

Marty's brow furrowed at the comment. "What happened," he said. His voice was low. His words were slightly slurred and it took him awhile to talk. Martin shook his head. "No doctor's like that." He was so confused. Martin swore he had been talking to a dragon. It had been wrecking chaos on some castle and he'd banished it. It must've been a dream, he rationalized or tried to.

The young man looked over at his roommate. "Oh great," he moaned. "You." He squinted his eyes shut and then opened them. A slight pout made his lips turn down into a frown. "Dang, I thought if I did that then you'd disappear…Oh well, can you take your finger off that buzzer? I'm not going anywhere, even though I want to see my bike. I'm too tired to move and I hurt."

At first Bradley hesitated but after a moment he moved his hand away from the call button "Yeah...nice to see you too." he shot back. Then the rambling started and it was enough to make Bradley wish he had earplugs.

Marty grunted. As he did, he rolled his eyes the best that he could, which wasn't very well – his eyes were puffy from black eyes. "So sincere," remarked the bruised and battered man. It was clear he was being sarcastic. It seemed that his brain was hardwired for disdainful remarks. After all, he was saying them after only a few hours out of surgery.

It took everything Bradley had to keep a straight face when Marty said 'so sincere,' because the moment he said that Bradley pictured Gollum from The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King saying 'so polite' in the exact tone of voice. Bradley had found that funny then and he found it funny now, but thankfully he didn't laugh or even smile.

"Your bike is fine Marty. It's over at impound under lock and key. It's not going anywhere. Is that why you left the hospital in the first place, to check on your bike?" Bradley asked.

After wiggling his fingers, he attempted to wiggle his toes. They also moved. That was a plus. Now, he would just have to see how his legs actually worked. If those were mobile then he'd be all set! He sure didn't want to be stuck in this room or any room for very long.

For a moment, his eyes brightened at hearing his motorcycle was fine, but then his eyes darkened when asked why he'd left the hospital. "Is it really any of your business why I left? Huh? Maybe I decided I wanted to go for a little walk and then give myself a worse injury," he snapped back.

Martin would've crossed his arms over his chest if they hadn't felt so heavy and he had been more lucid. "But, yes, that's why I left the hospital. I was only supposed to be gone a half an hour and then I was going to come right back here. I just wanted to make sure it was all right," he explained. "Do you blame me? It was my dad's all right? It's the only thing of his I own. It all got taken after his death. Besides, it doesn't hurt me like everyone else is hell-bent on doing. Sure, the falls might hurt, but not the bike."

He grew quiet and sullen after that. He stared at the footboard in front of him. Marty wanted water, but the dark-haired man didn't ask. Marty sighed. "You okay," asked the man with chipped, black fingernail polish. He pressed his lips together.

Marty tried to wiggle his fingers. They did. "Good, they work. They're numb, but they work," he rambled. "My head feels weird. Not as bad as at impact though. Did I scream?"

He watched Marty wiggle his fingers and for a moment Bradley thought the lad was ignoring him. "No you didn't scream. I think you hit the ground too hard to scream. I guess I do owe you a debt of thanks for saving my life. Right about now I imagine you are regretting doing it. One less cop to worry about, right?" Bradley said. He paused for a moment before saying, "I guess what I am trying to say is that it won't be forgotten."

He shrugged when mentioning debts and cops. "I was at the right place at the right time. I don't care if I have to worry about the cops or not. I'm just going to mess up, slip, and all's forgotten. To you, while I did save your life, I am still trouble and there's no helping me. Once trouble, always trouble – that's what they say. Everyone thinks that. I don't care. I really don't," Marty remarked. He looked away and it was clear he did care, if only a little bit.

"You're a bad liar, did you know that? I screamed. My throat tells me so. I kind of remember begging to make it stop. The pain was the worst thing I had ever felt. I don't think you could even imagine. It was like someone exploded dynamite in my brain," Marty said.

"I would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes. If all I had a bike to remember my father by, I certainly wouldn't rest until I knew for sure that it was okay. And, you didn't scream. You yelled but you didn't scream. Screaming and yelling are two different things and...you yelled," Bradley said.

He paused for a moment before continuing on. "I remember pain. I remember it being so bad sometimes that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." He thought back to the last few years on the force. He remembered a hostage standoff that led to the deaths of seven officers and he himself becoming severely injured. He remembered being inside a building, trying to rescue a little girl when the building blew up.

"I am not trying to make light of your pain, I am just saying that I know what it feels like," Bradley paused again while he listened to Marty's last remark. He definitely saw some truth to that. Most cops he knew were exactly like that, 'once trouble always trouble' attitude indeed!

He shook his head, but regretted it. The movement sent little spikes of pain burrowing through his scalp and into his poor, damaged brain. "I'm not so sure about that. I think a whisper would've been the same as a scream right then. Having my foot cut off by a rusty axe would've felt much better than cracking my head," Martin retorted. "I dub it the worst pain ever."

"Everyone makes mistakes; it's a part of what makes us human. No one can promise that they would never do it again because realistically it is impossible to do so. You have had it rough Marty; losing your only means of support, happiness…and love. I can't imagine how you can even cope with that day after day. I know I couldn't. When my mom died, I suppose I was lucky in that I was just a baby when she did, so I don't remember her and it's easier for me not to feel loss. But you...you at least got to know your father; you were very lucky."

"You may be thinking that you are alone and you will always be alone but that's not true. You don't have to be alone. I know it may be hard for you to understand let alone trust me but I want to help you, I want to be your friend if you would let me. I know that I am a cop and in the past I have been everything but kind to you. I realize that and I can't and won't offer any excuses for my behavior besides the fact that we are probably more alike than you would think. I know you have no reason to believe any of this but I do want to help you," Bradley said.

"I don't really think you do. I've lost everyone who mattered to me – my dad, my best friend, my girlfriend. My mother, at best, treats me like I don't exist, and at worst, treats me like I belong in the bowels of who knows where. To her I'm nothing but a piece of garbage that long went bad," Marty said. His voice rose a little bit as he spoke. "And uncle could really care less what I do or don't do with my life. As long as I don't bother him, he doesn't care. You know…he didn't even go to his own brother's funeral and he wasn't there to see him bleed out. I was!"

He stopped talking, a little confused at himself. Did he really just try to give Martin a pep talk? He had never given anyone a pep talk before; hell he had never treated anyone like a real human being before; except Lance, Lee and a few kids. Funny, he never knew he even had it in him.

Marty tried to shift, but he couldn't seem to get his body to move. Did that surgeon of his fill all of his orifices with lead? He needed to stretch - to turn. He wasn't used to lying on his back; Marty was a side-sleeper. He liked to feel his knees pressed against his sternum so that they were more or less digging into his skin. It created a sense of safety and comfort where he otherwise would have had none.

"That bike represents more than memories. It's family. It's the only thing on this planet I own, besides a few pencils, a drawing pad, and drumsticks," Marty explained. "When I ride it, I feel his presences because I knew his hands and feet sat where I was sitting. Speeding around the back roads and cutting corners short it's like flying. It's exhilarating. It almost feels like we're one – the bike's an extension of me and I'm the bike's extension. Nothing matters. You feel nothing but the heat of the motor and the wind nipping at your cheeks. All you see are colors – vibrant streaks of reds, blues, and grays melding together."

Marty bit his lip as his refrained from shaking his head. "I sure can't. In fact, I know I'm going to. Do you know why," asked Martin and then he answered his question. "I'm probably gonna go get a hit – some weed, a pill, something. I've been clean for two months and I can't do it anymore. Arrest me if you want… I don't care."

The man's scratched up brow furrowed and his eyes darkened a little as he grew thoroughly annoyed. "Maybe it's better I'm alone! Being alone means I won't be hurt. I won't lose anyone. I won't hurt anyone. I won't disappoint anyone," snapped the man. "Why do you want to be my friend? Why do you want to help me? What if I don't want it? What if I don't need it?"

Marty probably did need it. He was sure of it. But, the young man was never one to admit defeat.


	8. Chapter 7: Flashes Before the Eyes

Listening to the man rant and rave was a little difficult, but somehow Bradley remained silent. He had already known that one little heart felt pep talk wouldn't do anything to change Marty's mind because of the long years of pain the young man had gone through.

"I know there is nothing that I could do or say that would make you change your mind Marty, and I also know that arresting you wouldn't solve the problem either; it rarely ever does to be honest with you. You know, I get the feeling that before all of this happened you were a nice kid with a bright future ahead of him." Bradley said.

He had already known all of that before from his talk with Marty's uncle. "If your father, best friend and loved one could see you now do you think they would be proud of you? Do you think they would clap you on the back and say 'job well done?' I know you probably don't think this but you disgrace all of their memories by what you are doing to yourself. Your mother is also partly to blame as well so the fault isn't entirely your own. Your father would expect you and your mother to take care of each other. How do you think he feels now? Looking down from wherever he is and seeing his own son a drug addict who threw his own life away.

"You need to honor their memory Marty, not tarnish it by behaving the way you are. I know I am just a cop and my word doesn't mean anything but all I am saying and all I am offering is to help you." Bradley said.

He stopped talking when Marty closed his eyes. "Why should you trust me." he murmured.

"Yeah, clot pole, why," asked Martin as he fiddled with the blanket. "I can think of a whole lot of reasons not to trust you. First of all, you're a cop. Secondly, you arrested me – multiple times. Thirdly, you seem gung-ho about getting me off the streets. I can list more reasons, if that would suit you, you royal prat."

Bradley blinked. Royal Prat? Clot Pole?

"Excuse me?" he asked, shaking his head. Why did that sound familiar to him? "They may not be here in a physical sense but they're here in your heart. You are still connected to them though you may not want to admit it." Bradley said.

"Well...why should you not trust me? We've been friends for a long time, Merlin. You've never had a problem trusting me before." Bradley said.

He paused, scrunching up his face a little. What the heck had he just said and more importantly why did he just say it? It had just come out of his mouth as normally as if he were talking to a brother but Merlin no...Marty! Bradley hit his head with the palm of his hand hoping that would clear up his addled brain.

"You heard me," grumbled Marty. His mood had not been improved by the question – not by a long shot. "I called you a royal prat and a clot pole. Have you never been called a name before? Maybe it's that no one has a backbone nowadays and their scared stiff to call a person out on their actions if only to give them a nickname or two."

Marty bit his lip harder. He tasted blood and grimaced as well as decided to let up on the pressure. "I don't know about that. All I feel is numb and angry and cravings. The only time I feel slightly close to my dad is on my bike. You don't care though," he said.

At the name Merlin, Martin's eyes snap open. He turns his head and looks at Bradley. "Merlin? Merlin…my name's Martin! It's not Merlin," said the wounded man. "And we sure haven't been friends for a long time, unless you count trying to chase me and then throw my sorry behind into prison a friendship. If you do, you have a twisted sense of camaraderie."

"What? No, not really. I don't really belong anywhere so I'm used to it," Marty replied. "But, I do have weird flashes of images – reds and yellows and capes and a dragon… a very mouthy dragon who adores riddles."

"Weird flashes? You too? I have been getting those a lot recently. I see...red capes, an ornate looking castle, a gold on red dragon crest, kinda like what's on my cast," Bradley said, gesturing to his cast a little, "and swords...lots of swords."

"At first I thought I was overworking myself but now I am not too sure. These flashes whatever they are, are only getting worse. Sometimes they wake me up in the middle of the night. The answer is like a riddle that's on the tip of my tongue but when I reach for it, it's gone. Like, when I look at you I don't see a Martin or Marty...I see a Merlin. I don't know why but...it's like I know you from somewhere; not for the things you did or the times I arrested you but...something else. Take your uncle for example...I swear I know him...I don't know why but I do." Bradley said.

He stopped talking, getting the slight feeling that he was babbling and that was something he never did, or at least he thought he never did. "When I look at your uncle I see...I don't know...a name starting with the letter G." Bradley murmured. He shook his head a moment later, the urge he had had to start sounding out names that began with the letter G all but gone.

"They're dreams, but the images come in quick bursts. I always have them while I'm sleeping or waking up from getting a bump to the head," the young man said. His tone was indifferent, at best. "They're always the same thing. I see a dragon flying the air. I see red. I see a cape. I see gold, or maybe I'm seeing through gold. Last, I do see a sword, but it's in a stone. As a child, I liked 'The Sword in the Stone' though."

Martin couldn't help but laugh. "I don't have a white beard like that bloke," remarked the man. "And, it's no wonder….my uncles into everything He donates to all sorts of causes and goes to any function he hears about. And his name's Gael Mysak. That starts with a G."


	9. Chapter 8: Enemy, We Meet Again

She was sipping a martini when her cell phone went off. She looked down, a sinister smirk gracing her features.

"Hello, this is Ana."

The information came quickly, she smiled into the receiver.

"That boy just never learns does he? Don't go to the CEO, I will take care of this personally."

She hangs up, and downs her cocktail. Her pure black lab lifts his head; she smiles at the dog as he comes over to her heels. He sits as if she will be taking him out. She sends him a soft smile as she grabs her Gucci trench and secures it around her lean body.

"Not tonight Anubis, Mommy has to go to work."

The dog cocks his head as he watches her slip out the door. She waits for the elevator to bing, it does take a while to get to the bottom on a 23 story building, especially when you live in the penthouse suite.

She gets behind the wheel of her elegant Mercedes, she has an appointment with a very stupid warlock, and she just hates to be late.

The clicking of her jimmy choos makes her feel powerful. She walks up to the nurses' station, a sweet smile on her face.

"Hello, my name is Ana Stidolph, I am here to see Martin Mysak."

The nurse gives her the general information, bad trama, his escape, the usual bits. Morgana suppresses the need to look bored, she had already red the dimwits mind. She smiles at the woman, drawing her in.

"Could I please see him?"

"Oh I don't think that's...well..."

"I am his insurance agent, from Sterling-Bosch? I am the President there."

She hands the girl her card, and takes a second to run her finger over the young girls' skin, people are too easy – always motivated by primitive desires, easily falling under the trap of a beautiful individual. Ana knows she is stunning, and she uses it just like any other power. The girl still seems hesitant; Ana does not have time for this. She stares at the woman, their eyes connecting; the young nurse is drawn to Ana.

"úinéireacht," she whispers and the nurse gives her the room number.

"Good girl."

The clicking of her heels reminds her of power, of the world she controls. She has grown fond of this century, its gadgets, and its connections. Her influence has grown, and her feelings of revenge are as strong as ever. He cannot hide from her anymore. She pushes open his door. She does not even flinch at the sight of her brother; she will not let him know that his presence has startled her. She looks to Merlin, oh how the mighty have fallen...

"Marty, look at you, on your back and tied to a bed. Are you just that happy to see me?"

Her look is downright seductive.

When the door was pushed open and a beautiful woman strode in to the room Bradley shut up and gaped a little. He had seen beautiful woman before, course...who hadn't? This woman however...there was something oddly familiar about her, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

After she addressed Marty by name, Bradley concluded that the two of them knew each other. How they knew each other, he didn't know. From what he pieced together he believed that Marty was a man of semi-limited means, certainly someone who couldn't afford the likes of whatever company the lady worked for, then again Bradley knew he could be wrong.

Keeping quiet for the moment Bradley studied how the lady seemed to tower over Marty, her voice dripping with something that sounded to him like a sick, twisted version of confidence. To him it was just a little creepy. His instincts told him not to trust the lady; then again her attentions weren't even focused on him, but on the other occupant in the room. "Ma'am, I think he's hardly in the mood for visitors right now," Bradley said.

She smiles at her brother, well not her brother. He is suspicious; it falls off of him like waves. They are remembering, she can't allow that now can she. She quirks an eyebrow at him, he is as haughty as ever. She sneaks a glance at Marty again, his bandaged head will be easy enough to deal with. She can just call him senile. She will just have to make sure their 'memory loss' sticks a little bit better.

She sighs, how irritating. At first she just had Marty to deal with; her brother coming back into the picture will complicate things. She looks him over, debating how she will handle him, but she mine as well deal with him the way she deals with all the other.

She straightens herself, her hair pushed behind her head. She gives her once brother her best dazzling smile. She knows how to play her brother; he was always so easy in the past.

"I am sorry. I was just so worried about my favorite client. I'm sorry who are you?"

"I'm Officer Bradley Pendleton," Bradley said making sure to put a little bit of an emphasis on his title. He wanted to make sure this lady knew that he wasn't just a civilian but an officer of the law. "And who might you be, may I ask?" he asked.

Bradley studied the lady's attire. Yep, she did look like the lawyer type and when she said that Marty was her 'client' that spoke volumes. [i]'Yeah a creepy lawyer type.[/i'] Bradley thought to himself as he waited for the lady to speak.

Inwardly Bradley was wondering who a lawyer found out so quickly that Marty was in the hospital once again. To him it was a little strange that of all the people to show up first it would be a lawyer...then again...Marty had burned a few bridges hadn't he?

"It's just...I've never seen a lawyer care that much a client," Bradley said.

She raised an eye brow at his title, an officer of the law? How boring, that doesn't seem like fun. She had hoped her brother had done something more with his pathetic new existence, instead he did what he always did, found the first occupation that gave you a toy and used it to swing around at people. In this case it was a gun instead of a sword. She resists the urge to roll her eyes.

Even in Camelot she knew Arthur wasn't born to rule, he was too soft, too easily manipulated. Now look at him, an officer? He wasn't even a detective...at least if he held that title he would be seen as something more of a threat. What is he a rookie? Oh well, she will deal with this in accordance, he apparently thinks he is intimidating. She eyes him carefully.

"My name is Ana Stidolph. I am sorry to disappoint you, officer, but I am not a lawyer. My company deals with more...personal matters."

She should tell him her title, give him a reason to shut up, but alas she will just leave him guessing. Sometimes being powerful is knowing when not to show your trump cards.

Hearing footsteps nearing the room, Marty looked at the door. His lips were pressed into a thin line. He really didn't want to see anyone right now. He was tired and he hurt. Marty didn't even want to have a roommate – he just wanted to be alone – but he didn't have a choice in that matter.

Seeing who entered, Martin's eyes harden as anger flares in his heart. He can hear the monitors begin to beep louder as his heart rate raised. "Get out of here," he growled instead of answering the question.

When Bradley attempted to shoo her away, Marty's eyebrow raised, but he didn't look at the blond-man. "Get out of here. You don't give a rat's arse about me," he snapped. "You just care about the things my family has…well had. You got everything except the motorbike. You sure aren't going to get that."

"Aw, don't be like that Marty. You know I care for you."

She moves over to sit on the side of his bed, her fingers running over his cloth covered legs. She smiles down at the linens. She loves him like this. All battered and bruised, always trying to push against her. She should not enjoy torturing him so.

She leans closer to him, her face hovering over his, her ruby lips turned up in a sinister smirk. Her necklace hangs off of her delicate neck, she sees the pendant hit his chest, she suppresses a laugh.

"Oh Marty, I always love it when you act all high and mighty. You know how delicious you are when you act like this?" She runs her fingers over his face and grips at his neck her fingers tight. "But you should know better. I own your everything."

She leans back, she wants to break him, destroy everything he loves. Her eyes glance over to her once brother, the moron.

"Well, since this is so pleasant I have a fun surprise for you. You know how Sterling-Bosch hates to pay outright? Well I recommended that they take away your precious bike! How much fun is that?!" Her eyes are dark, she owns him.

"And you know I don't. I want you to get out of this hospital right now! I'll call…I'll call," Marty growled with as much force as he could muster. The word security was lost in his battered mind. However, he came up with another word. One that felt right or at least it was close enough. "I'll call the guards!"

His blue eyes stalk her. His lips pressed into a thin line and the side of his jaw quakes. He slides his leg away from Ana's touch. He doesn't want to feel the pressure of her finger against his leg.

As her face looms in front of his, so close he could feel her hot breath on his face. "Get away," he said. His words were clipped and he said them with curtness. "I don't want you anywhere near me."

Marty knew he could beg and plead with her, but that wasn't his style. He would never stoop to that. She wasn't his mistress and he wasn't her servant. Actually, she worked for him, well his family.

"I don't care and neither should you! Now, get away from me," he shouts. His nostrils flare and eyes widen. Behind him, a light suddenly pops and goes out.

Marty pushes her hand away. "Stop it," he hisses. "And get away! I don't think can make myself any clearer. Get away."

How many times had he said that? He didn't know. He felt like a scratched cd that kept repeating the same line.

White hot anger flows through his veins. She would not get his bike. He'd die protecting that thing. As soon as he could, he was leaving – Marty didn't care how unsafe it was, he was going to go. "You'll not get it," Martin spat. "Never. Besides, it's not even worth much and you're bloody company has been paid up for the next 30 or 40 years."

Her laughter is like a melody. One that predicts the storm that is brewing outside. Get away, how silly he is, he keeps forgetting that she owns him...all of him. Her greatest triumph in this century is being the head of his family's estate. He always pushes her away, but she knows men, even better she knows Merlin, she does not falter by his harsh response. She expected this, back lashing and haughty attitude.

Grovel...he will. Beg...he will. She has spent so much time pushing against him, squishing him like the butt he is. Now look at him, bandaged up like a present, one she will unwrap. She should feel awful about her behavior, but she cannot, his reactions are to...delectable.

She leans on her hands above him, her dress dipping down over her body, her necklace falling again. She bites her lips, her eyes boring into him under long lashes. He was never good at this game.

"Oh Marty...you kick and scream like you have power here. Sterling-Bosch may work for your family, but with all you've done we own you now. Your too fun Marty...you act like I haven't repossessed your bike already..."

Her lips hover over his, her smirk menacing...she will draw this out...she will have her revenge.

"Get off of me and leave me alone. I don't want to see you. I don't need you. I don't want your services. I want to be left alone," Marty said. He lightly batted her hand away and then reached up to massage his forehead. His head was really starting to hurt and the beeping was getting louder.

"I think I do have power. You might think I am daft, but I'm not. I know who my family is. I know the truth. But what I have done is none of your company's business. It doesn't concern you," he said. "If you take the bike, I'll let your little secret slip. I'll tell the papers just how you get people's possessions. Do you really think people will be happy with your hand twisting, manipulative methods? I didn't think so. Now leave before my head explodes."

She smiles at his little assertion of power, he knows nothing; if Marty, Merlin, knew the extent of her "manipulation" he would cower in fear. She owns Sterling-Bosch, the owners just do not know that yet. She sends him her best pouty face, the look mocking him.

"Oh Marty how assertive you are. The papers? You have me shaking in my Gucci heels really."

Bradley had just shut up and listened to the 'banter' between the two, if it really could be called that. It was more of Ana threatening Marty and Marty trying to defend himself. When Marty had asked Ana to leave, Bradley decided to wait to see if she did or not but when she didn't and Marty kept on asking, if not begging her, to leave Bradley did the only thing he could do...legally that is.

He raised his hand and pressed the call button, summoning a nurse. Moments later, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a light bulb exploded. The bulb was small; nothing more than something to illuminate a patient's face but still...it had been off at the time yet it had lit up and popped.

"I suggest you do as he asks ma'am and leave. I don't really care who the hell you are. You could be the wife to Prime Minister himself. You don't go threatening people like that," Bradley said, glaring at Ana. In truth he really didn't care who she was. He was determined to protect (that he didn't know why) Marty and if that meant protecting his bike as well...so be it! He knew Ana (no matter what company she was from) couldn't have touched his bike, at least not yet since it was still in police impound and would be until they were finished with it.

Gwen came in moments later. She looked at Marty's vitals. Stepping between Ana and the bed, the curly haired nurse began to gently stroke Marty's arm. She took his hand in hers as she brought his arm down. Then, she stroked his forearm. "Mr. Mysak, Marty, you need to calm down. It's okay. Everything is fine," she cooed.

Gwen looked at Bradley and Ana. She wore a stern expression as she gazed at them. "What has been going on here?" she demanded. "We have a very critical patient here and he doesn't need troubled by anything. He needs peace and quiet."

She sees the nurse...oh Gwen you area always helping the sick, never helping herself. She looks at the needle in the woman's hand, she watches as she brings the needle up to Marty's IV.

"Caillteanas cuimhne"

She whispers the spell and watches the liquid glow if only for a second. She looks over at the boys, then back to the liquid. Gwen injects Marty's IV first then she goes over to Bradly's. The memory spell should work on them for now, Ana grins. She goes over to Marty one more time, her eyes are deep, her look seductive.

"You will learn your place soon enough Marty. When I call your mother back I will tell her how I've taken care of your last distraction via her request."

When she speaks, he opens them again. "Oh, I know my place," the dark-haired man replies. "My mother won't care. She doesn't care. She can't touch that bike. It's in my name and my name only. Have forgotten that I made myself the sole proprietor of that motorcycle? It's not connected to my mum's account. Legally, she can do nothing. Willingly, she won't do a thing."

She brings her face close and kisses his cheek. Her ruby lipstick left an impression of her menacing smirk on his flesh. She pulls back a breath and goes to his ear.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I forget to mention that she is the one who called me tonight to inform me of your little accident?"

"You're bluffing. I know my mother she wouldn't call you to discuss my condition with you. She wouldn't do a thing for me or to me," Martin pointed out. "Besides...if she had, you would know I've been in two accidents in the last five days – not one. My uncle probably did tell her about what happened, but she doesn't care."

She pulls back; she can feel her power pulse under her skin, what a delectable feeling. She turns to her, not, brother, he is as pathetic as Merlin now. She walks over to Arthur, Bradley, her fingers running over his cheek and chin, she changes her look considerably, her eyes become soft if only for a moment.

He pushes her away. It's not a forceful move. Even though Ana disgusts him and she hates the woman, he doesn't want to hurt her. "Get away from me and stay away," Marty growled.

"I am glad that you were not hurt too severely officer. I am sure you will make a speedy recovery and be back to protecting our good citizens."

Her words are sincere, she may hate Marty...but Bradley is different. She may think him daft half the time but she still looks at her once brother fondly. Maybe this world their relationship could be different.

She eyes Gwen, her chastising words roll over her. She rolls her eyes and starts towards the door...though her ability to one up Marty always seems to hold her in place.

"Ya know, I might leave my car here and ride back to my house on the new bike Sterling-Bosch has repossessed. I heard it has great horse power." She laughs all the way down the hall, her designer heels clicking away.

Martin attempts to sprint from the bed. His eyes are blazing with anger. Another light bulb pops. "You'll regret the day you set a finger on that bike," Marty growls. "I swear to you, I will ruin you and your company. I will go to everyone I know and tell them what you and your sister did. You will rue the day you took my family on as a client."

Bradley just glared at Ana when she touched his cheek. There was something about her that made him just want to...! He curled his right hand in to a fist, making it so tight that he could hear his knuckles pop. Never in his life had he been close to hitting a woman but at that moment in time he was.

Thankfully Gwen was in the room or Bradley had a feeling he would have attacked Ana! He watched her turn and leave the room, threatening to ride a bike back to her home. It didn't take a genius to know which bike she was referring to and it didn't take a genius to know that Marty was probably going to flip out over that.

"I don't think Marty is going to get much rest if that woman is around, ma'am." Bradley said to Gwen when he saw that she was still waiting for a reply. He didn't want to cast any undo suspicion on anyone but Ana just gave him the creeps. Not many people could do that but she pulled it off well!

Bradley glanced over at Marty to gauge the young man's reaction to what had transpired. He imagined the kid would be rip roaring to get out of the hospital and grab his bike if only to keep it out of Ana's hands. Truth be told, if Bradley were in the same situation he would want to do the same thing.

"I'll tell Parliament and the news stations. It'll be all over the place. Your business will be spent. You'll be driven out of town. You might even be driven out of the country for all I know," he hissed. "I'll tell them everything. I know what you did to my father. You were dying to get a hold of my father's things. You'd do anything, well you and your sister would."

He tried to keep himself cool and collected as he spoke. He tried not to show the duress he was in, but it was hard. His forehead was wet with little bubbles of sweat and he felt flushed. The pains of surgery and concussion were starting to pulse outwards against all sides of his skull.

"Marty, you really need to calm down," Gwen said in a gentle voice. "I'm going to give you some medicine for the pain. Maybe it'll help you relax."

"When she leaves I relax," Martin growls. He's panting now. His ears are ringing even more so and there are white spots hovering in his line of vision. Marty squeezes his eyes closed as dizziness mingles with the pain.

Gwen looks at the monitors. Martin's blood pressure has risen and his pulse is still very high. "I suggest you leave – now," she said in a stern voice. "Mr. Mysak is in no condition to hold discussions of the sort you have forced onto him. He needs time to rest and heal."

She sighed as Ana did. With a gentle hand, she lowers Marty back down. She pulls out her stethoscope and listens to Martin's breathing and heart. "I'll be back in five minutes to check on you. You need to calm down. I'm going to call Aggie to report this incident," she said and then the woman left.

Marty lay against the bed's pillows. He was staring at the ceiling. The young man kept blinking and his lips quivered. "She did it," he whispered to Bradley. His words were thick with emotion and tears. "She killed him. I don't know how, but she did. She and her sister did it."


	10. Chapter 9: Plans Unfold

Ana made it a point in her life to only half listen to the things that come out of Marty's mouth, mainly because he was being outlandish, childish, or down right stupid. Tonight was one of those nights, the things he said bored her, she chuckled to herself all the way home, her expensive leather seats feeling good under her body.

As she stopped at a red light she pulled out a cigarette and lite the damn thing, the smoke running into her lungs and then again out through her mouth felt empowering, righteous. She looked at the smolder at the end of the tip, the fire feeling strong, powerful. Her heart skipped suddenly, a horn brought her out of her daze and she sped off to her house.

She walked in, her trusty lab greeting her with his mighty bark and snuggling at her ankles. She leans down to pet her trusty companion, scratching behind his ears as his foot shakes in merriment.

She rises after a moment, _You killed my father!_, his words rang in her ears. She looks over to her mirror, her luminescent skin seems almost transparent tonight, her red lips are smudged from touching Marty. Her fingers come up and pull at her dress, the garment falling, her naked body exposed.

She almost feels as if she should say something in this moment, as if to tell her body the _bare_ truth. She shakes for a moment, and turns away walking into the shower. Her empowerment is gone, her strength dissipating, she starts her shower. She does not hear her phone beep from the other room, her confidence can finally be relieved at this moment.

Anubis comes into her bathroom, and licks at her ankle. She pets him on the head before entering her shower, clear doors so she can see anyone who enters. Her trust lays in front of her shower doors, posed to protect his master. She looks to him briefly before stepping under the water, she scrubs at her face, she smudges across her skin make her look hideous.

Her mind runs back briefly, to a moment, a desperation, _Merlin...I'm scared_. She collapses in the shower, the tears run freely, her power to see makes every memory feel real. She backs up into the corner, grabbing at her knees. _You killed my father!_.

No Marty...she has done so much worse...

She is outside on her porch, the droplets from her hair fall down her back and pool on her towel. Her arm is across her body, holding the flimsy cover up with one arm, a glass of wine in the other, a cigarette secured between her fingers. Anubis is running around her back yard, his tail wagging, his ears flopping, he is so opposite from the master he adores. She hears the door slide open, her mask is on, her strength up.

"You took your time showing up tonight. I had to deal with him myself."

The figure walks next to Morgana, a smirk on their lips.

"You seem to keen to be upset over that. I thought you always enjoyed alone time with the little twit."

Ana walks over to the table on the patio, placing the glass down and bringing the cigarette to her lips.

"Those things will kill you ya know."

"So I've heard, then again," she puffs air out, "why fear death when one is essentially immortal?"

She rolls the cigarette between her fingers and then blows on the tip, an evil smile coming to her features.

"You tried to run him over tonight. How boring..." Ana states.

"Well, I was on my way home from the store and just couldn't resist, he's getting stronger."

"Hmm...so it would seem..."

They stand in silence, the moments tick by like an eternity.

"I would think you would be happy to see him dead."

Morgana slams her hand on the table, the figure jumps.

"DO NOT assume to know what I feel. I want him to remember...I want that last second before I push that blade into his heart. I want him to bleed...I want to hold him as he dies, as he remembers how he held me. I WANT him to suffer..."

"We'll you've accomplished that. Already took everything else from him, now that is only left is that stupid bike."

"Yes, the bike...the only thing he cares for. I assume you talked to the captain?"

The figure smiles.

"Of course, the man was all too easy to manipulate. We will fetch it tomorrow if you like. What do you plan to do with it anyway? Smash it up and leave it on his front doorstep?"

Morgana sighs.

"Nothing right now, I might let him even be silly enough to get it back...but things have become complicated. Arthur and Gwen are back, and I fear them getting in the way. I really don't want to hurt him...not again, not like last time."

"Last time? Developing a conscious Morgana?"

She whips around and hurls her wine at the other, the figure just laughs.

"Do not call me that. No one is allowed to call me that...not ever...not after..."

"Oh you are so dramatic sometimes, honestly. It was just a simple-"

"Nothing about that spell was simple Morgause, or are you going by Morgan now? You manipulated me that day, I should hate you just as much as I hate him."

The sister approaches Ana.

"You have forgiven me because I did what was necessary, as you would. You will have your revenge Ana, I swear by it. I just wish you would tell me what you are planning. We have everything else, what more could you want?"

"I want him begging that is what I want."


	11. Chapter 10: To Protect

He watched the whole scene unfold, putting in his 'two cents' whenever he felt at appropriate, but after Ana left and things started to quiet down, Bradley saw a side of Marty that he never even knew existed.

Marty was talking about his father, Bradley was sure of that, and the accusation he made against Ana; it wasn't one that could be made lightly.

Bradley was silent for a few moments as he wondered just what the hell he could do. Sterling-Bosch was a pretty powerful company, not easy to take down especially if Ana was telling the truth. After about thirty seconds Bradley opened his mouth and said, "I believe you. That was the first time I ever met that woman and already I can tell that she's trouble."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do? No one ever does. No one ever believes a word I say, especially about Ana and her sister. Everything thinks his death was a shoot and run," Marty said.

"I think if we work together we can bring her down but only if that is what you want to do."

Marty shrugged. "I don't care. All I want is my bike kept safe. I don't care about anything else. I don't have anything else left to care about," muttered the boy.

He watched Marty closely; knowing that it probably wasn't the right time for all of that but when was it ever going to be the right time?

Ana was evil and downright creepy, Bradley had gotten that feeling the first time he had laid eyes on her, and he had seen for himself the kind of control that she spouted over Marty. To him it was all too clear that something had to be done about her.

"Her company...it wanted everything. It got everything, except the bike. They won't get that. On my life I swear to that," he whispered. "But, they will try to get it. I wouldn't be surprised if they got rid of me."

Martin shook his head. "That car wasn't meant to hit you last night. It was meant for me. Whoever drove it followed the ambulance to the hospital. I saw it through the window as we drove off," he continued. "And you know...every time you stopped me from speeding or arrested me you saved my life? Did you ever wonder why I sped? Yes, I like going fast, but I was being chased."

He looked at Bradley. Fear was in his eyes. "You see, my father was very rich. He was very smart...too smart. Before his murderer, he was studying time travel and the 10 dimensions theory, which basically discusses how everything is linked and it discusses how we perceive things. My father made a time machine. He claimed it worked. He also willed all the research and documentation to me. They are hidden away in a lock box somewhere. I haven't seen them. But, people didn't like his research nor did they like his machine so they killed him and destroyed the thing."

For once Bradley said nothing right away. He just lay in his bed and thought about everything that Marty had said. Could it be true? Could he have only seen what he wanted to see out of Marty, rather than the entire picture? Could he really have been that blind?

"She is going to make a grab for that bike; sooner rather than later I would think." Bradley surmised, thinking out loud to himself. If they had any chance of keeping that bike away from her something had to be done and fast.

"So what? If she does I'll steal it right back from her," Marty muttered. "I'll steal it form impound too, if I have to. Then, I'll just take off – riding through Wales and Scotland. I'll just disappear from this world. Everyone would be happier if I did – at least I'm guessing."

Hearing the nose, he wrinkled his nose. "She'll still get it," Marty muttered. "Why are you helping me? If the roles were reversed I wouldn't be doing a thing."

"Why am I helping you," Bradley repeated, "Because you need a friend. You can deny that you don't all day long, I don't care. The fact remains that you do. I think you've been running for so long that you don't know how to just stop and ask for help. You've been hurt so many times and by so many people that you have lost the ability to trust. I understand that. To tell you the truth, I don't like to see anyone being taken advantage of."

Making a decision Bradley reached under his pillow and pulled out a cellphone. It was plain, simple even but it worked. When his coworkers had come by to check on him, they had brought him the phone he kept it his desk. He called it his 'burn phone,' something he could use in an emergency if his regular police issue cellphone was out of commission.

Turning on the phone, Bradley texted one of the guards at the impound yard, just to make sure Marty's bike was still there. After receiving confirmation that it was, Bradley sent a text to an old friend of his; well...Bradley called him an old friend but for all he knew Lance could have really been younger than he himself!

Bradley knew that Lance could get Marty's bike out of impound and he knew that Lance wouldn't ask him any questions right away. So, Bradley quickly explained part of the situation to Lance, at least enough to let his partner know that haste was needed. Soon after he sent the text he got a reply from Lance. The bike would be removed from impound and taken to a secret location within fifteen minutes; the length of time it would take to sign something out of impound.

"Well...if all goes well your bike should be safe...hopefully. I have a friend taking it out of impound as we speak. Hopefully he will get to it before Ana, but if not we will track it down." Bradley said.

The young man glanced over at Bradley with a wary and untrusting expression shining in his blue eyes. "Even though you probably saved me, I didn't want it. I was so mad at you. I was always mad," Martin admitted. "I can take care of myself, you know. I've been doing it a long time."

He stopped speaking. His lips went into a thin line as he his mind drifted. "But, it's still scary to know that when I get out of here I have nowhere. I don't even know if I have any extra clothes. No one wants me. I don't want anyone," he replied. That was a lie and he knew it, but he didn't care. He sure did not correct himself. "Why would I?"

He lay there silently for a moment, considering a few things before he spoke up again. "You say you don't have a place to stay. That may have been true then, but it doesn't have to be true now. If you want to you can stay at my house."

Bradley really didn't even know why he was offering this in the first place. He was putting so much trust and faith in to Marty and receiving none back. Why would he just accept Bradley's offer out of the blue? Deep down Bradley had a feeling it would have to fight to get Marty to see reason. Even as he watched Marty, Bradley suddenly got the image of himself arguing with someone who looked and sounded like Marty, only this kid was wearing a blue shirt, red scarf and brown coat. Shaking his head he thought to himself, 'I have been watching way too much BBC.'

Marty snorted a little bit at the answer. "How do you know what I need? You just know me as the punk you've arrested 6 times," the man spat back. "I don't need a friend. I don't need anyone. They'll just leave or die or I'll hurt them. I can take care of myself…at least I have control over what I do or don't do so I don't get hurt."

With a great struggle, Marty crossed his arms over his chest. He shifted a bit so he was lower on his pillows and then he picked at the chipped, black fingernail polish on his nails. "Well yeah, dollop head, I don't. Ana's company, whatever it's called, took it. And my mum and uncle don't exactly want me around," Martin remarked.

At the offer, the dark-haired man raised an eyebrow. "Um, well…if you want an offender with multiple counts against him and who is known to have a drug problem then sure…at least until I can find something. I'm warning you now I'm not going to be able to stay clean and I'll probably do just about anything to get a fix," Marty said. "Why would you even offer? I'm your least favorite person."

Marty yawned. "I'm going to sleep now," he whispered. The man closed his eyes and quickly drifted into a deep slumber. A tortured and troubled expression creased his forehead.

Lance had signed out Marty's bike on the request of his partner. It was a rather unusual request and one that the officer was going to get an explanation for once he cornered his friend. Getting on the bike, Lance stuck the key in to the ignition, turned it and then fired up the bike. It roared to life, to handlebars trembling slightly in his grasp.

Seeing the gate to the police impound open up and his captain step through looking none too happy, Lance knew he was probably about to get a major ass chewing. The question was, why? He had done everything correctly; gone through the proper channels. Why would his captain care if he signed out a piece of police property?

Lance knew he had two choices, stay or ride off before his captain got to him. If he stayed he'd more than likely have to leave the bike which would anger his partner. Then again if he just rode off he would probably be looking at an APB being called out on himself and the bike; oh the joys of being a police officer!

Making his decision, Lance gunned the engine on the bike, roaring out of the impound lot and on to the street. He knew exactly where he was going to take the bike to keep it safe and if this Ana person ever did get her hands on the bike, Lance had a trick or two up his sleeve which would allow them to easily find it again, but for now he knew that he should at least get as far away from police headquarters as he could before he could contact his partner again.


	12. Chapter 11: More Plans

Morgan's phone went off, signaling a text message. She quirks an eyebrow and starts to laugh. Ana looks at her sister, her delicate eyebrow raises again. Morgan looks to her sister.

"It seems we have a rogue in our midst. The Captain just messaged me, and officer...Lance? He seems to have taken Marty's bike."

Ana stands there for a moment, her mind reeling, calculating, deciding how to act. "I have a feeling he is connected to my idiot brother. Marty does not have connections like that. Have your captain intercept the man. Make him squirm for a moment. Then make your presence know. Don't take the bike right away. I want to see how this man reacts."

Ana and Morgause share a sinister smirk. "As you wish sister. I will be in contact."

With a swish of her skirt Morgause leaves. Morgana lights another cigarette, and allows her towel to drop, her skin bare to the world. Anubis barks at her, his tongue hanging out in happiness. She looks up to the stars, the power of foresight running over her, pushing her back to another world, another life.

She puts out her a cigarette and her and Anubis move inside of the house. The stars start to sing in her ear, warning her of this path that not only is Marty's heart on the line, so is hers. She takes a deep breath, her mind reels.

"Nocht"

It is simply a reveal spell, many women use it to reveal truths about lovers or it will be used to hopefully see ones future. Morgana has a much different use for this spell. Her eyes go gold and her body shimmers, and suddenly her skin opens, small cuts run over her body in sporadic fashion, from the tips of her toes, all the way up to her cheeks. Her once flawless skin is littered with her betrayals, her lies, her deceit. Her body is ugly now, her scars litter every inch of her. Some are long jagged cuts, others shallow and sharp. Her eyes water again as the stars start to speak, whispers of the future, haunted realities.

She brings her hands in front of her, blood seeps from her palms, blood of those she's killed, those she's deceived, those she's destroyed. The stars whisper faster, telling her of her fate, her death flashes before her eyes, Arthur's death, Merlin's. She sees them all, so tragic, so alone. She sees Marty now, the stars whisper faster; he is sad, broken, alone. Feelings she remembers, feelings she is kindred with.

A vision flashes before her eyes again. You can trust me Morgana, you know you can. Her heart slows then speeds up. The cuts on her body glow. Her eyes turn that powerful gold and she remembers a feel she long since suppressed, love, the stars sing and she cries and shakes. The blood on her hands smear over her arms as she cradles her body. Suddenly her face becomes a mask of anger again. Here have some before I finish it. You're a good friend Merlin.

She screams and all the glass breaks but stops, floating around her. When she breathes out her glass pushes back quickly and slides into place. She breathes out. Her mask of power is back on.

"Folaigh"

Her body is recovered, her flawless skin back in place. The stars slowly quiet but send her one more present before they dip back into silence. A vision of drugs flashes before her eyes, she smiles.

"Well my stash is low..."

"You mean to tell me he got away?"

The man was a blubbering idiot. She only kept him around for her own means. Her face was neutral, a menacing look adorning her face.

"He just sped off..."

"I don't care if he flew off." Her tone was sharp, powerful.

"I want to know his name, I want to know where he went, and I want to know why the hell I keep you around?"

"Morgan I-"

"Just shut up. I don't have time for this. Get me his name, badge number, and quickest way to get to him. Also, if you don't want this to...affect you...you will make sure he is fired before the end of business tomorrow."

"Oh Morgause I-"

"You can and you will Captain...unless you want me to get more involved with the police than I already am?"

He shakes. He knows the influence she has over his office. He shakes his head. She smiles at him, her fingers caressing his cheek.

"You like being a captain don't you? You would hate to lose such a cushy job wouldn't you?"

He nods dumbly...he only got this job because of Morgan...he knows it is best to keep her happy. "Yes. His name is Lance Seger, partner to Bradley Pendleton."

"Pendleton...how dull."

She smacks the blubbering fool and starts to walk away. "Remember captain...the world revolves around information...and I have enough to destroy you. I suggest you keep my involvement quiet...for your own sake."

The man nods dumbly as Morgan exits. Quickly she pulls out her phone and brings it to her ear, the number dialing quickly.

"Sister, some man name Lance has the bike. Yes I will deal with him at a later date. Haha, your terrible... stocking up again? Will you mess with his stash?"

She laughs again, it sounds dark, powerful. "Excellent, get me the usual. We should celebrate...I think things are about to get interesting."


	13. Chapter 12: A Month Passed

One month had slowly passed by for Bradley. In that span of time he had gotten out of the hospital, gotten out of the cast, and had returned to work. He and Lance both had had a lot of explaining to do to the Captain regarding Marty's bike and the subsequent 'accident' Lance had had on the highway while driving it. What Lance never told anyone was that it wasn't Marty's bike that had been completely totaled, but a replica of it. The bike Lance had gotten was the exact same kind and once Lance was through he made sure it was basically the exact same bike even down to the serial number on the parts and the license plate on the back, and it was the replica that he had wrecked...on purpose.

Somehow, and to this day Bradley had no idea how, he had really convinced Marty to stay with him at his house. The past month had been hard on the both of them but somehow; despite everything that Bradley had had to put up with, he had stuck to his promise to look after Marty, take care of him whenever he could and to try to at least keep him out of trouble.

No easy task when one considers the fact that more than once Bradley had had to throw out some of the 'contraband' (drugs) he had found in his house. He knew Marty was going to slip up from time to time, but isn't that what made everyone human? Even though Bradley had heard no more from Ana in that month, he seriously doubted they had heard the last from her. She didn't seem like the type to just go away.

Stepping out of the shower Bradley dried off, got dressed in a simple bleached red shirt, dark jeans and tan boots before running a comb through his semi unruly locks. Once that was done, he stepped out of the bathroom and meandered in to the living room. It was his day off, thankfully. He had had just about enough of hearing his Captain bitch about what a God awful job he and Lance had done.

Flopping down on the couch, Bradley rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had a feeling that today was just going to be another of those days.

Lance stood outside the door to his partner's house. Lance was dressed in a simple black leather jacket, dark blue button up shirt, blue jeans and dark boots. His black sunglasses were sticking out of his jacket pocket within easy reach.

Sighing, he tapped on the front door twice and waited the customary thirty seconds. At first he heard nothing then he heard the familiar shoes against carpet before the front door opened to admit a slightly damp looking Bradley Pendleton.

"Lance, good to see you," Bradley said, shaking hands with his partner and best friend. "Come on in." Bradley stepped to the side and allowed Lance in to his home, shutting the front door behind the man before following him in to the living room.

It was obvious that something was wrong by the way Lance held himself and by the way he was pacing in the living room. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked.

"He took my shield," Lance said, shaking his head a little angrily.

Bradley looked confused by the statement. "What?" he asked.

"Captain High and Mighty Devin Steele took my shield, gun and more or less fired me from the force. He took me off of active duty and put me on an indefinite leave of absence without pay," Lance said.

Bradley was shocked. "He can't do that!" he exclaimed.

"You know, remember when you thought that someone had bought out the higher ups in the department?" Lance asked.

Bradley nodded his head. Two years ago he thought that someone else controlled those higher up because the officers had to do the most lame ass job of patrolling the city, and they were even told to let known drug dealers and speeders go free.

"Yeah." Bradley said.

"I think you are right. Someone has got to be controlling them or at the very least buying them off. Despite being an absolute ass I don't think Steele would just fire someone without a good reason," Lance said.

Bradley nodded his head before placing a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll get your job back for you," he said.

Lance smirked. "Don't bother Brad. I already have plans to take care of that. Speaking of plans, sorry about Martin's bike by the way. I didn't mean to wreck it."

As he was speaking Lance had dug in to his pocket and retrieved the key to the bike, handing it over to Bradley who took it with a sigh. The look on Bradley's face told Lance something important. "You haven't told him yet have you?" he asked.

Bradley shook his head. "Knowing that you have to tell someone some bad news and actually doing it are two different things" Bradley shot back.

"Well, if he wants to see the pieces, they are at the ol' junkyard," Lance said, handing Bradley a yellow post it note with an address and a code on it. From the look in Lance's eye Bradley knew he was hiding something, but what that something was he didn't know.

"Where is your roommate by the way?" Lance asked, looking around the living room.

"I don't know. He may still be sleeping," Bradley said with a shrug, pocketing the post it note.

The healing process had been slow and arduous. He'd been through another surgery to replace his skull so that his brain wasn't exposed to the elements for the rest of his life and that had set him back in the healing process. Now, he just had to have a lot of checkups and be extra careful for a couple months. That meant, he couldn't lift heavy things, ride his bike, or go horseback riding. Marty didn't really feel like doing much though. His head constantly hurt, he found himself to be clumsier, and after doing a small thing around the house he was exhausted.

Lying in his bed, Marty stared at the ceiling. His hands were clasped together and rested on his stomach. He was dressed in black jeans, and a t-shirt. His hair was wet – he had showered this morning, but after the shower he had needed to lay down even though he'd been up only an hour. It was frustrating. Aggie said it would get better. He hoped she was right.

As he lay there, Marty thought about the last month and he couldn't help but wonder how Bradley had convinced him to live with him. It was absurd and felt off. Marty really didn't know how Brad had swayed him, but he had.

Stomach growling, Marty got out of the bed. He shuffled into the living room and found himself already tiring. The dark-haired boy looked up. "Hi," he said sullenly. Nervously, he shifted and looked from one man to the other. "What's going on?"

Bradley jumped. Funny, he didn't hear Marty come in to the room. Turning around Bradley studied the younger man closely. "Marty this is Lance. He's my partner," Bradley said, indicating Lance.

"Ex-partner if Steele has his way," Lance corrected, folding his arms and leaning against the nearest wall. Bradley rolled his eyes but didn't comment on the remark. Instead he turned to face Marty directly.

Marty nodded to Lance. He didn't say anything. He didn't really feel like saying anything. He hoped that the sooner this little meet and greet was over the sooner he could go cook something for breakfast. Then, he probably would need another nap before cleaning. Then, he'd have to have another nap before lunch. That would be three naps before 1 in the afternoon and Martin hated that. He couldn't wait to be healed up.

"Marty I uh...have some bad news. The night Ana visited you in the hospital, if you remember I did text someone and I had them remove your bike from the impound..." Bradley paused, deciding not to sugarcoat things. "Marty, I am not sure how it happened but the officer somehow lost control of your bike and ran it in to a cement truck. The bike was completely destroyed."

Walking over to Marty, Bradley held out the keys to Marty's bike, the only thing that had survived the crash. "I'm really sorry," Bradley said, not knowing what else to say.

Hearing the news, Marty's eyes widen. He stares at the keys. His mouth drops open as he shakes his head. This can't be happening. Everything was gone. The last of the light in his broken eyes dimmed into nothingness.

"I've got to go," he said. Marty did not take the keys. Instead, he turned around and went back to his bedroom. "See you this evening." He entered his room. Straightening the blankets, he lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A new hunger began to gnaw inside of him.

It wasn't until Marty was gone that Bradley closed his hands around the keys and placed them in his pocket.

"Didn't think he'd take it that hard," Lance said, walking over to Bradley who hadn't moved from his spot.

"You don't get it Lance. That bike was the last thing Marty had that was truly his. It was his father's before him. Now it's nothing but a twisted hulk of metal," Bradley said, fixing his partner with a look.

"I wouldn't go that far." Lance said.

Bradley scoffed at that. "What else would you call it? You destroyed his bike!"

"Whoa now, Pendleton. Take a step back before you say something you are going to regret," Lance said, holding out his hands in front of him.

Bradley folded his arms, glaring at his friend for a moment. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked.

"The kid's bike, I didn't wreck it," Lance said.

"Then why the hell did you tell me you did?!" Bradley all but yelled in frustration.

"Because I needed you to tell the kid and I needed it to be believable. I recreated the bike, made it identical to Martin's bike; even down to the paint scheme and serial number on the parts. It was the recreation I wrecked. You yourself said you wanted the bike to be safe. This was the only way I could think of to insure that. Why would someone want to take back a bike that is nothing but twisted metal?" Lance asked.

Bradley was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down. He knew Lance had a point but still, he didn't like being used like that. "Where's the bike?" Bradley asked.

"Check the post it note. The real bike can be found at that address, but you'll need that code to get in the main gate. Then there's another four codes you'll have to enter to be able to get in to see the bike," Lance said.

Bradley shook his head. "You always have to do everything big don't cha?" he asked.

Lance shrugged. "You told me you wanted it safe," he replied.

"I need to tell Marty it was a mistake," Bradley said.

He was about to go to Marty's room when Lance stopped him. "No. He, above all else, needs to believe his bike is gone. I made sure that the police had all the necessary info about the downed bike and that it was all given to Bosch. No one knows the bikes were switched except you and me. Everything would be for nothing if an hour from now Martin is seen on his bike. Then Ana and whomever else would know that the bike wasn't destroyed. Besides, if you told Martin the truth and asked him to stay away from the bike do you really think he'd listen?" Lance asked.

Bradley paused. "I see your point. I don't like lying to him though," he said.

"Well, when Ana is out of the picture you can tell him the truth if you want," Lance said.

"Ana...she seems so familiar. Sometimes it's like deja vu. One time I almost thought of her as my sister," Bradley murmured. Lance chuckled at that.

"Been drinking too much Captain Morgan?" Lance asked.

Bradley rolled his eyes and shoved Lance playfully. "Shut up!" he said.


	14. Chapter 13: Ploys in the Making

She is sitting at her desk, looking over documents. Seems as if the Blanchard's son has done it again...there goes another million dollar painting; she sighs, sometimes this tedious job takes a toll on her. Whenever something goes missing from these rich scum she can always find some child that has taken it, how dull. Can't it be original? Like an actual cat burglar?

She sighs as her phone goes off, she sighs. "Yes sister dear?"

Morgan feeds her information, i.e. where Marty is living, who he's getting drugs from, where his bike possibly is - the usual stuff.

"That sounds interesting, but honestly, I don't have time for his stupidity right now. No, I haven't interfered with his drugs...why what's wrong?...You think he's getting his memories back? Sister I'm sorry but that is ludicrous, I put a memory spell on him a month ago...yes I know...right I understand...yes sister I will take care of it."

She hangs up and turns towards the beautiful skyline of London, the blue sky calming her. Anubis pokes his head up, she sends him a happy glance. Her only salvation in life...who knew a dog would be her companion of choice? She always thought she favored cats in the past...oh well. She hears a knock at her door. She swivels around in her chair to face her desk and picks up a couple of papers, Anubis barks and she laughs.

"Enter."

Her poor assistant enters, shaking like a leaf. The girl fears her boss...she is so powerful, so...scary.

"What do you want Amanda?"

The girl shakes more. "I'm sorry Ms. Stidolph...I know you said not to disturb you today...but-"

"Today Amanda," Ana growls.

"Ah! Sorry, you said to bring you anything on the Mysak file. Something new came up."

Ana's head shot up, Marty had been relatively quiet this last month...and the file has nothing to do with him, just his mother. She was always more careful than most.

"Oh and what happened?" Ana eyes her assistant.

"Oh...well...Ms. Mysak called and informed me that they want to refinance their estate. They need a background check on their assets. She was going to have her new agent take care of it, but you said if anything comes up for them to bring it to you immediately."

Morgana smiles wickedly. "Oh Amanda this is your lucky day...you actually did something right..."

The Captain walked a little slower today, firing Lance was not something he wished to do...but with Morgan on his back he knew it was only a matter of time before she blew the whistle on him. He sighed as he entered his office, but froze in place.

"Morgan-"

"Do you know what I hate Captain Steele?"

She had his letter opener in her hand, playing with the sharp object. He was both in fear...and aroused by the way she played with the opener.

"No, what do you hate Morgan?"

She stands, and walks around his desk, as he moves backwards, he looks to his windows...she would be intelligent enough to close all the drapes.

"I hate squirmy little men who take four weeks to do what I ask..."

He is back against a wall. Morgan looks up from under her dark black lashes. She runs the tip of the opener over his cheek.

"Morgan, I'm sorry...honestly I would have done it sooner but paperwork-"

"Shut up, how dull you are Steele."

She walks away from him; her sharp gray suite makes her body look alluring. She produces a small bag from her coat pocket and throws it on his table.

"This is a present for you, for being such a good boy. But before you get it...I have one little favor."

His breath is shallow...oh if his AA sponsor could see him now. Morgan's "favors" were never just "favors"...they were blackmail, and with all she had on him already? He was beyond screwed.

"What do you want?"

"I want a meeting with one of your officers...Bradley Pendleton? I have something important to discuss with him."

The captain eyes her, he knows if she wishes to talk to Bradley, it was not good for the officer.

"Why..."

She sends him a deathly stare and he quickly shuts up.

"Why is none of your concern. Send him to this address by start of business tomorrow, don't tell him why just tell him it has to do with a new case. Can you handle that Captain Buffoon?"

He takes a small piece of white paper from her perfectly manicured fingers, his body shaking, sweat adorning his brow.

"Good boy. Now I must be off, leading a city is never done!"

"Yes, Madam Chief Executive..."

She looked over the finances for what was left of the Mysak estate. It seems that his mother started to build up their estate again after the fiasco with Marty. She has even been looking into repossessing some of her old assets...she was always a clever woman. Morgana pulled out her cell phone as she stood, pressing 1 and waiting for the other end to answer.

"Bruce, my good friend, how are you? Yes all is well at the impound...yes I heard about the destruction of poor Marty's bike, how horrible. Yes, I have a quick question for you...yes did you sell to him? Three months...yes I was just confirming what Morgan had told me...what a good dealer you are. Yes, I am sending you some new clients...I will talk to you later."

She hangs up, fingering the phone. Bruce is higher up on the drug peddling business...a useful informant. He gives her information and in return she sends him lowlifes, how boring. Though, Bruce is nothing more than a pawn just like everyone else in her life, besides her sister.

She sighs, she has a feeling Marty will turn up sooner or later, buying from one of Bruce's low life pushers...if not the man will find out who sold him the drugs.

She looks back down at the Mysak estate one more time. Her brain calculating, (thinking, deducing) how this could work in her advantage. Marty and his mother are already estranged...though turning that emotional knife is always fun for her.

She looked down at her wrist, she takes a deep breath.

"Nocht comhlacht"

Her eyes go gold and her wrist starts to slice, the small cuts revealing themselves. She sucks in a breath, reveling in the pain. Her eyes are gold, the stars whisper, if only softly. They aren't telling her much right now, it is not night, and she is not totally revealed to them. She asks them where Marty is, but the only thing that is revealed is the drugs, and she can see Marty on his back...high again. She leans back, her wrist in the air, the scars clearly visible. Her door bursts open and her idiot assistant walks in unannounced.

"Ms-"

"Amanda! What did I tell you about barging into my office unannounced!"

Ana slams her hand on the table, making her poor assistant jump. Poor Amanda looks to the ground...her boss may be a massive bitch but the money far exceeds the amount of emotional trauma she receives on a daily basis...and Amanda needs this job.

"Ms. Stidolph I'm sorry-"

"Just shut up, what do you want?"

Amanda shuffles on her feet, clearly worried.

"I'm sorry Ms. Stidolph, but Mrs. Mysak is here to see you."

Ana is taken aback for a moment, but she recovers so quickly her idiot assistant doesn't even notice. "Send her in, in five minutes Amanda. Thank you."

"Yes, sorry again, Ms. Stidolph."

Morgana sits down and picks up a piece of paper, but looks at the girl over the document. "You should be Amanda."

The girl quickly scurries out, and Morgana rolls her eye.

"Folaigh"

Her wrist covers itself and a moment later Merlin's mother walks in, Morgana walks up in greeting. "Mrs. Mysak how delighted I am to see you again."

She walked through the state house doors, all those who saw her stopped to wave, acknowledging their Chief Executive. She smiles and was cordial, but the deep dark smirk always hung on her delicate features, giving her the most sinister look. Many cowered in her presence, and some walked in the other direction just to avoid her. She hated the runners, but loved the brave ones. She enters her office, her assistant is on the phone, but tells the individual to wait.

"Ms Leavey."

Her assistant sends Morgan a wicked smirk that the woman returns. Angela is her informant, and trust second, only to Morgana. The girl has spunk and the desire to rise to the top, not matter what the cost. She reminds Morgan of a younger, less intelligent version of herself. The girl hands Morgan a few notes and the Chief looks them over. She looks back at Angela, whoever is on the phone the young girl made them wait, how clever of her.

"Thank you Angela."

The assistant nods and brings the phone back to her ear and resumes her conversation. Morgan enters her office, so big, so lavish. She takes a moment to admire its beauty, all those years in school were worth it, all the manipulation has brought her here. She walks over to her desk, running her fingers over the hard wood. Her phone goes off, she can see Angela through the window, awaiting her to answer. The girl is not stupid enough to just enter her rooms no matter what.

"Yes?"

"Ms. Leavey a man is on the phone for you. Says he is Captain Steele?"

Morgan rolls her eyes, how dull. "I'm busy."

"Very good ma'am."

Angela and Morgan share a smirk through the window, what a great assistant she has. The woman makes up some excuse and gets rid of the annoying captain. Morgan goes to her computer, and starts to type away. Her database pulls up Bradley Pendleton's police profile. She read through, seems hes beyond a boy scout...how boring he is. Doesn't look like he even has a parking ticket to his name...she sighs. She looks up Lance Seger's profile. The man has a slightly harsher background, missing parents, seems to have hit a rough patch before joining the force. She smiles at the line 'terminated' in red across his police picture, she chuckles. She runs her eyes over his picture for a moment. He is handsome...but so dull.

She pushes her keypad away, annoyed. She has to find some way to control this Bradley, and if her spell is correct he and that annoying Merlin will be getting their memories back...and if this Lance character is also a reincarnate she could have even more problems. She rolls her pen between her fingers. She has a call to make, and a man to see.

"Can I get you anything to drink Mrs. Mysak?"

The woman waves her hand at Ana, a hard look carved into her features.

"Don't suck up to me Ana, I need to speak with you."

Ana nods, her smirk falling into place. Mrs. Mysak is many things, but stupid is not one of them. She had told Ana once that she was a witch and will one day burn in hell, then she had promptly tossed her whole estate onto Ana's lap, I need a witch to take care of my idiot son's mistakes. That was about a year ago, before Harriet Mysak was always seen as a happy woman, carefree and full of life. She always seemed so happy with her husband, his death had brought a hardness to the woman, and her sons rebellion didn't help Harriet's mood.

It was funny, she had been taking care of the Mysak estate for years, but it wasn't until Basil's death that Harriet started to call Ana out. She sometimes wonders if the death of her husband had made the woman a better observer of people.

"Right, well how can I help you Mrs. Mysak?"

"You can help me by staying the hell out of my idiot son's affairs. I told you if you wanted to keep me as a client you would leave that boy alone. I don't want him interfering with my business."

"I am sorry Mrs. Mysak I-"

"Don't, you are going to feed me some smooth line well just save it. I have enough to deal with. I have a feeling you have already taken over the refinancing of my estate?"

"The file only landed on my desk a few hours ago. I thought the information had just been processed."

"No, I had it process yesterday. It probably only made it to you now. I assume you will be heading the re-insuring of my assets."

"Of course, I will handle it personally."

Harriet sits back, her hands folded over her coat. Ana is a powerful woman, she knows this, and she needs her on her side. She just doesn't need Marty getting a whiff that she has brought the estate back from the disaster he left it in, and then he'll want money...or worse steal from her again. She stares out the window then slowly makes her eyes back to Ana.

Ana is sitting back, a smirk on her delicate features. She likes Harriet; she doesn't deal with the everyday BS that others put up with. She doesn't need fake smiles, not anymore. She is happy she has succeeded in bringing back the Mysak estate to its formal glory, she will be able to use such fun information later. Possibly tempt a stupid boy...what information to have.

"I assume you would like your platinum plan again?"

"Why of course. I want to buy back all the art my son stole and you had to repossess."

"Of course."

Ana scribbles away, the new policy will be a big win for Sterling-Bosch...and she just loves looking good in front of the bosses. They discuss payments and fees, prime, best options, and which pieces she would like to procure now. At the end Harriet looks at Ana's head as she scribbles away furiously, the girl may be very conniving...but she's good at what she does.

"I have a question for you Ms. Stidolph."

Ana looks up for her paper, and cocks her head to the side, a signal for the older woman to continue.

"I heard that my son got in an accident. His uncle told me, and then I caught wind that his bike had been totaled."

Ana folds her hands on the desk. Harriet did call her that night to tell her about Marty...but only to stay away from him. She wanted to know the status of Marty's bike, she wanted it back.

"Yes, the reports have it that it was totaled. We have the pictures. They returned the remains to Sterling-Bosch."

She pulls out the file from the desk and hands it to Harriet. The woman takes deep breaths as she opens the file. Her husband's bike...how many rides did they take together? She is thrown back to years before she had a son, and her and Basil would get on his bike and just ride for hours, the wind in their hair, their hearts open and young. She runs her fingers over images of that precious bike, mangled and destroyed. She runs her fingers over one picture in particular; her eyebrows scrunch up as she brings the photo up to her nose. Ana watches the woman curiously.

"What is it?"

"This isn't my husband's bike."

Ana freezes, her eyes go big. Harriet puts the photo down, and Ana eyes the woman. "Are you sure?"

The bike not being destroyed will have major consequences on whoever faked it, oh how delicious.

"Yes, on the front of the bike, on the left side near the tire Basil had carved my initials into his bike, he told me that I would always be there to protect him...as I would protect Marty whenever her rode..."

Ana's mind flies, how did she miss something like that? She takes a breath, Harriett looks at her for a moment her eyes dark. She takes a breath, putting the photo down.

"I will return the money Sterling-Bosch paid out to me for the bike, as you can see it is clearly not destroyed. I want it found Ana, and I want it returned to me...better yet give it back to my idiot son."

"Marty? Are you sure that's wise?"

She runs her fingers over the photos, she may be estranged from her son but she still loves him. Maybe her initials on that stupid bike will protect him. "Yes, and if he thinks the damn thing is destroyed...I have a feeling Gael will be calling me again."

Ana grinds her teeth for a moment, but her mask of power stays in place. She sends Harriet a dazzling smile. "Of course, I will look into who has taken it and get it returned as soon as possible."

Harriet nods and starts to walk away. She stops suddenly, and turns towards Ana.

"You know, it was funny, before the world took on this dark blanket I always thought of you as such a sweet girl, a girl that my son should date...an upgrade from the girlfriend he had at the time. Now I see you Ana...and all I can do be grateful that never happened."

Ana is rigid at the woman's words; she can only nod as Mrs. Mysak makes a quick exit, and for a moment makes the great Ana Stidolph feel very small.

Her phone goes off as she is driving. "Hello?"

Ana is on the other end, the woman sounds beyond agitated.

"Yes...so it's not his bike? How delightful!...what do you mean we have to give it back to him?...you're actually going to do as she says?...well I understand I just think we could just find it and destroy it ourselves...yes, yes I know I'll look into it...yes I looked up Lance. He seems to have a checkered past, unlike your darling brother. I don't like what I found, mainly that he seems to be good with computers...yes it was put in the police reports that he helped solved a few cases with his skills...no this could be bad depending on how good he is...we have to think strategically Ana, we have to keep them in line...haha on sister dear what language, you should know better than to feel that way. Marty will be under your boot in no time...well if you give him the bike it might provide much needed opportunity...you think your idiot brother has it? I could find out...we have a meeting tomorrow...he has no idea of my involvement yet...soon enough. I heard the Queen is now a nurse how quaint...well go on your hunt between the two of us you are better at gathering the underground I will keep my eyes open in the public sector...haha she said that? About her own son? What a woman we should keep her around..."

She slows her car and pulls to the side, sitting in her hard leather chair for a moment. "Yes, well sister I must be off. I have a man to meet and I just hate to be late...yes of course I will take care of it. Talk to you soon sister dear."

She hangs up and laughs to herself, how delicious would it be if Ana's idiot brother had the bike...what fun. Morgan wonders if there is any way to pine him with police interference...she will take care of that problem tomorrow.

Morgan steps out of her sleek black 2012 Jag with chrome trim. She pushes the lock button and smiles to herself as she walks down the pavement.


	15. Chapter 14: Attack on the Home Front

Lance had just gone to the kitchen to retrieve two beers from the kitchen while Bradley had fished out two unopened packages of Jack Links Original Beef Jerky; a little vice that neither he nor Lance could ever really get enough of.

Tossing one of the unopened packages on the couch, Bradley was just about to sit down when he felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket. Sighing he put down the other bag of jerky and took out the cellphone, staring at the caller ID. Rolling his eyes he hit the green button before placing the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Yes Captain...a new case sir? What are...? Yes sir, yes sir. 9 AM tomorrow morning sir? Where do they wish to meet sir? 1421 North Woodshire? That's the industrial district si...alright alright...I'll be there. Yeah...same to you..." Bradley ended the call before cussing out his Captain.

Lance was leaning against the doorjamb sipping on one of the two opened bottles of beer. From the amused look on his face it was obvious he had heard all or most of the conversation."Steele?" Lance asked, joining Bradley in the living room and handing him the other bottle of beer.

"Yeah, the son of a..." Bradley began but when Lance cleared his throat he caught himself. Lance didn't like it when he cussed, which considering Lance's background was a little hard to believe.

"Sorry. Steele reassigned me to another case. He won't tell me what kind of case; he only wants me to meet some informant tomorrow at 9AM in the industrial district," Bradley said.

"You going?" Lance asked.

"He said if I don't it's my job," Bradley replied.

Lance took another sip of his beer and swallowed it before saying, "I don't know. Something doesn't seem right about this whole thing."

Bradley looked at him before accepting an offered piece of jerky. "Come on Lance, you have access to the eye in the sky and I know that you can hack in to the city's traffic cameras. I think it would just be too easy for you to watch my back that way. You may not be on the force anymore but I still consider you to be my partner," Bradley said.

Lance let out a small grin. "Don't worry Pendle ol' buddy, I got your back," he said.

Bradley had been about to take a swig from his beer when he stopped. "You know I completely detest that nickname, don't you?" he asked.

Lance grinned again. "Of course! That's why I said it!"

Bradley shook his head. "Someday Lance. Someday I'm going to wring your neck," he joked.

Lance chuckled and replied, "Not today Bwana, not today!"

At that Bradley just chuckled some more and playfully shoved his friend again. Soon the two of them quieted down again.

"How's Martin doing?" Lance asked.

"What...you mean before you had me tell him about his bike? He's had his good days and bad days, more bad than good, but that's life. I'm more worried about him now, though. That bike was his last connection to his father and the outside world. With him thinking it's gone...I think it's going to push him over the edge and back to drugs, maybe even suicide itself. I keep trying to help him, but he doesn't respond that well to it," Bradley said.

"So what are you going to do?" Lance asked.

Bradley shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know Lance. I don't know."

The two men had been silent for a few minutes and just when it appeared Lance was going to say something more, he never got the chance because just as soon as he opened his mouth, several shots rang out clear as a bell outside.

Bradley and Lance both jumped to their feet and took cover on either side of the main window, carefully peeking out of the curtain. At first they saw nothing amiss but then they saw a middle aged man with what appeared to be an Uzi poke his head up from the hood of the car across the street and fire his weapon down the street.

Seconds after the weapon had fired Bradley and Lance heard a female scream of pain before weapons fire down the street caused Uzi man to duck back behind his car to avoid getting hit. Snapping in to police mode Bradley nodded his head at Lance.

"Call it in anonymous, just get police and ambulance crews here." Bradley said.

Quickly, he went to his room, opened up his closet and uncovered his black safe. Entering in the simple combination Bradley opened the door, reached in and took out his 2 fully loaded 9 millimeter pistols and his gun belt. Putting one of the guns in the belt, Bradley slapped it around his waist and thigh before shutting the safe door and arranging the other gun in his shirt.

Bradley then was going to head straight outside but that's when he remembered Marty so he went to Marty's closed bedroom door and tapped on it, but being respectful he didn't open it.

"Marty, there is a disturbance outside. For your safety please remain indoors and in your room," Bradley said, turning and then heading outside.

Staying crouched, gun in the air by his face Bradley barely heard Lance's "I'll cover you," before he was out the door and kneeling by his undercover police car. He watched Uzi man stand up and send a quick wave of bullets down the street, so he took a chance and glanced in that direction.

Bradley saw what could only be explained as a group of rowdy teenagers, all armed to the teeth, banding together with a man who looked like a drug dealer. This wasn't just some civil disturbance, this was out and out war, with no easy solution about how to end it peacefully.

"What do you think?" Bradley glanced at Lance who had joined him by his car.

"One target at twelve o'clock, armed with an Uzi. Seven targets at ten o'clock, six of which are teenagers. All are heavily armed," Bradley replied, still eying Uzi man.

"What are you thinking? We can't go after the seven without taking down the one," Lance said.

"I know," Bradley responded. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before opening his eyes once more.

"This is the police!" he yelled loud enough for everyone to hear. "Everyone, drop your weapons and come out with your hands behind your heads!"

All Bradley was rewarded with was a hail of bullets striking the far side of his car and puncturing a tire, and that was only from the seven armed targets down the street.

Bradley and Lance both saw Uzi man glance their way and upon seeing them both armed, he raised his weapon towards them. "Take em' down!" Bradley yelled at Lance as they both aimed and fired their weapons. With grim satisfaction they watched Uzi man take two bullets to the chest and drop to the ground, hopefully dead or at least incapacitated.

"One down, seven to go," Lance said as he and Bradley reloaded their guns.

"Okay Lance, you stay here and draw their fire. I am going to sneak around the back and come up from behind them," Bradley said.

He was about to move when Lance stopped him. "Brad, you are not going to be able to take care of seven armed people by yourself."

"I hopefully won't be by myself. If you get any chances, shoot. Okay? Besides, backup should be arriving soon anyway," Bradley replied.

Lance saw that there was no talking his partner out of it, so with a nod of his head Lance watched him sneak to his backyard and easily leap over his back fence, heading in the general direction of the seven armed targets down the street.

Bradley leapt over his back fence and trailed along through several backyards before doubling back. He remembered to keep his breathing easy, not an easy thing when his heart was beating a mile a minute and adrenalin was coursing through his veins. Peeking around the side of the house, Bradley saw that he was in the perfect spot, with all of the targets in his sights.

Taking aim, Bradley yelled, "Alright, I say again. Put down your weapons and raise your hands!"

All of the seven moved as one. It was because of this that Bradley had no choice but to open fire. He shot four of the seven before having to duck and roll forward to avoid getting hit. But in doing so, Bradley discovered that he was now going to have to fist fight this thing out with the others, so he dropped his own gun, balled up his fists and swung at the teenager who was more or less in front of him.

The teenager swatted his hand away before gripping Bradley's wrists tight. It was clear to Bradley though that this teenager was trying to wrestle him to the ground. Yeah, that so wasn't happening! Bending his knee a little, Bradley managed to throw the kid down on the ground, kneeing him in the ribs for good measure.

He was about to stand up when he heard the hammer of a gun click before he felt the cold barrel against his head. Slowly Bradley raised his hands, his mind already spinning with ideas. "Get. Up." The order was short, sweet and to the point if not dripping with anger and malice. Being sure not to move very fast Bradley got to his feet but didn't turn around. He was waiting patiently for what he knew was going to happen next. Not thirty seconds later he heard the voice he was looking for, almost directly behind him.

"You three drop your guns or I shoot your boss!" That was Lance. Good ol' Lance, he was always there when Bradley needed him. Quickly Bradley gave himself a three count before jerking away and around to grab the gun that had been aimed for his head.

Bradley and the drug dealer got in to a tug of war/wrestling contest over the gun while Lance was having his hands full with the three teenagers. Off in the distance several sirens could be heard; the cavalry…as always they were better late than never.

Suddenly a series of gunshots rang out. The world seemed to slow and hold its breath in anticipation. Slowly the three teenagers dropped to the ground, each were sporting a bullet hole to the chest.

Lance sighed with relief at that before he glanced down at his own chest, seeing his shirt suddenly blossom with red several inches from where his heart was. Lance breathed softly as he dropped on to his knees in shock and disbelief. He had gotten shot. He had actually gotten shot. Paling, his pain filled eyes gazed upon his partner and the drug dealer. Both were lying still; Bradley on top of the drug dealer. "Bradley?" Lance whispered, fearing the worst for his friend.

A smile came to his face when he saw Bradley move and slowly climb off of the unconscious drug dealer. While the drug dealer was sporting a gunshot wound to his midsection, Bradley was sporting a gunshot wound to his side as well; and from the angle of entry Lance had to guess that the blood on Bradley's shoulder was where the bullet had exited.

"You always get us shot at…you know that partner?" Lance whispered, chuckling a little before he fell backwards on to his back.

"Lance!" Bradley cried out, forgetting his own injuries as he made his way over to his fallen friend. Lance was unconscious, the bleeding severe.

Using his one good arm and hand, Bradley kept pressure on Lance's wound until the police and ambulance crews arrived on scene. Only then did he move away from his partner and allow the paramedics in to work on him, and despite protests his own wound was just a scratch, he himself was transported to the hospital as well.

Once at the hospital the two officers were separated; Lance was taken to emergency surgery and Bradley was taken to x-ray. Thirty minutes later the x-rays were developed and the results read. Bradley had gotten fairly lucky, the bullet had missed his vital organs but it had destroyed some of his muscle and damaged some of the nerves in his shoulder. The doctor who had examined him explained that he would probably never regain full use of his shoulder again and that he would probably have to go through physical therapy once the wound healed.

Per the doctor's request Bradley stayed overnight, but when the sun rose up it was Bradley himself that checked himself out of the hospital. His arm was wrapped and in a sling and his lower torso was also wrapped to allow the bullet entry hole to heal. Finding a taxi, Bradley paid the driver to take him to the address provided by his Captain. He didn't really want to go but he didn't want to lose his job either, so against his better judgment he went to the meeting.

The taxi slowed down and came to a halt. Wordlessly Bradley studied the meter for a moment before he dug in his pocket and pulled out 14 pounds (around $20.00 US) and handed it to the driver. Exiting the taxi, Bradley ignored it as the driver drove off, leaving him alone in what appeared to be the 'wrong side of the tracks.'

All of the buildings were old, there was graffiti on some of the walls of the buildings and there was trash and cigarette butts lining the ground. "And now folks the part of the movie where the hero is kidnapped, tortured and probably killed." Bradley muttered to himself. He had seen movies like that all of the time; good guy goes to 'the wrong side of the tracks' and if he isn't killed right away he's hurt and has to fight his way out.

Bradley stared at the large warehouse just up ahead. It was the designated meeting place. It didn't look like much from the outside but who knows what it contained inside. For the first time in his life Bradley was nervous. He had no back up and he knew it. Lance was out of commission and lucky if he wasn't dead.

Walking forward, Bradley knew he had no choice but to head for the warehouse. He readjusted the strap on his sling when it started to dig in to the side of his neck. He hated slings for that very reason, but he knew he needed to wear it or his shoulder would be giving him all sorts of trouble later on.


	16. Chapter 15: Cat & Mouse

Morgan was walking up the stairs of the residency when her phone rang. "He came then left." She didn't ask for details, didn't need to. She shut her phone and looked up to the door, the hard wood, the person behind it being someone she needed to talk too. Her delicate finger came up and she rang the doorbell.

The long haired an opened the door to his flat a little bit and stared with half-mast eyes at Morgan. His hair was pulled back out of his face, but a strand fell into eyes anyway. He was dressed in nothing but jeans, however, he was pulling on a blue t-shirt as he pulled it open.

"Ah, my lovely little daffodil, tis a pleasure to see you," he said. Yanking the shirt down and smoothing out the wrinkles, he kissed her hand. "What did I do the have the pleasure of seeing you so early in the morning?"

He stepped aside. "Come in. Come in. I have some coffee on and some fresh blueberry scones with cream cheese," he offered.

"Gavin." Her voice is sharp and to the point. She rolled her eyes, why are you sleeping with him again?. Her smile sparkles, her eyes run over him as she enters; now she remembers. "I'm not here to chat I'm here for information. I am having a little meeting with your friend Bradley tomorrow, and I want some information on him."

"You can have a cuppa while we discuss the news. All ladies need a good drink and a bit of food," the man remarked. He entered the flat, which was quite sparse but cozy enough. There was just a table and four chairs with a small kitchen and a couch, TV, upholstered couches, and a coffee table.

"All right. What's in it for me," he asked as he poured two cups of coffee. "You know, I have a price. I always do."

The man pressed his lips together. "He's determined. He's a fighter. He cares about his friends a lot. He even cares about this Marty guy," he said. "He's stubborn, but he's smarter then he looks. He's always trying to do is best - better then his best. I think he has some daddy issues and wants to make him proud. He respects the truth, so get to the point and get to the point fast. That's all you need to know. Oh and he hates the nickname 'Princess'."

Gavin slipped on his jacket as he downed his coffee. "Now, anything else? I need to get to work. There was a massive shooting I need to investigate. Apparently, Bradley defeated the bad guys, but I need to know what all went down. Sorry, but I can't say anything about that though. Top secret stuff."

She approaches Gavin, her eye quirks. She moves around him as he pours the coffee, her fingers running over his arm, her breath hot on his ear.

"I will give you your favorite pleasure Gavin, don't I always?"

She runs her fingers over his stomach and softly kisses hes cloth covered shoulder as he talks. She walks from him as he babbles about Bradley's character...who really cares about that?

"Gavin, I need more information besides his personality, you know I desire information of a darker nature."

Gavin grinned. "Great," he said. There was a little eagerness as well as a little sarcasm in his voice. "Sounds good. Later though. I am late for work."

Gavin shakes his head as he notes into a scone. "Daffodil, I don't have any dirt on Bradley. He is as clean as can be. He's an upstanding citizen of London. I can't tell you things I don't know. He might've forgotten to pay taxes one year, but he paid double the year after that. I know. I helped him with the forms."

Gavin shuddered with pleasure as she kissed him. He kissed the top of her head and then finished his breakfast. "I'll see you later. Dimmer tonight, ok? I'll cook," Gavin said. "Lock the door behind you. I'm late."

Having headed out the door. He pulled out his cell and dialed Bradley's number once he was a block away. "Pick up," he hissed.

She slammed her hand on his island as he left his room. How dare he dismiss her. Dinner? He could dream on, she has bigger fish to fry. Her body feels hot, she suddenly is reminded why he keeps him around. If Morgan hates anything, it is being thwarted by someone as insignificant and stupid as Gavin.

She huffs, but straightens her jacket. She has other things to take care of today, she will just have to make him pay for his insolence later. Her shoes click through his hall as she makes her way out of the door. She puts his key into the lock...why he made her a spare she will never know...and why he made it a hello kitty key really irks her.

She shoves the keys back into her pocket as she walks down the stairs, it is time to meet with a very annoying officer, and get the information she needs.

She sat in her room, her scars bare to the stars as they sang to her. Her mind swirled, images ran through her head, things she did not recognize or even understand. Broken. The word swirled over her mind again and again. Her body started to shake, she didn't understand, her head spun. When she couldn't take the torture anymore she ran to the bathroom and promptly threw up. Her lips trembled, her body quaked. What could it all mean?

"Folaigh"

Her body shakes as it becomes even again. Ana rolls on the tile; the cold stone feels good against her heated skin. She fists beside her.

"Anubis!" The dog comes in; her eyes lock with the strong animal.

"Cigs." The dog leaves but returns within a moment with her cigarettes, she smiles at the animal. "Good boy."

He drops the pack on her stomach. She opens the box, grabbing the cancer stick and lighting it. She sucks in the toxins then blows them back out. Her fingers come in her hair, her body shaking. Broken...what has been broken?

She sits at the end of the bed, the occupant out cold. She smiles at his lifeless body, the only indication of his pulse is echoing out of the heart monitor. She runs her fingers over the machine, oh how she wishes to pull the plug on the nuisance of a man. She sighs, her legs cross surprisingly gracefully in her tight Calvin Klein skirt. She pulls at the magazine next to his bed, waiting for him to awaken.

The stars had sent her one more useful thought before she rolled over in pain, instead of just broken she also saw a bed, a hospital. When she went to the emergency room she said first her brother's than Marty's name. It was said that Bradley had been released but his partner Lance was still in their care...well now that she could use.

_Broken..._she'll have to find out what it means later.


	17. Chapter 16: Die Cast

Bradley felt his cellphone vibrate so he took it out of his pocket and gazed at the caller ID. Gavin. Bradley shook his head, sighed and hit the red button to send the call directly to his voicemail.

He didn't exactly want to talk to Gavin right now for two reasons. Reason one was because he needed to focus on this meeting, and reason two was because the last time they had talked they had gotten in to a little fist fight which had left Bradley at least with a two week suspension. That had been annoying, even though it had been several years ago.

Entering in to the warehouse, Bradley saw that it was dark inside. "Hello?" he called out, wondering where this informant was supposed to be.

She was exactly five minutes late, she hated that. She saw Bradley's police cruiser outside, perfect. Her heels clicked up the stairs. She saw him standing there like a poor helpless puppy. She really should make sure to put Gavin in a cast later tonight. "Looking for me?" Her eyes are calculated, her breakfast has arrived.

Hearing a female voice behind him Bradley turned around to see a woman he had never seen before standing there. It wasn't too unusual to meet with a female he didn't know...but still. "You are the informant Captain Steele told me of?" Bradley asked. He didn't introduce himself and wouldn't until he found out if this was the person he was supposed to speak with.

His eyes studied her face. She was cute in a way. Wait...what?! Bradley silently admonished himself for that. What the hell was he thinking? This was work...WORK!

She smiled at his facial expressions; he seemed to slip up a bit, Morgan had a way of doing that to men. She wore her sleek gray tailored suite, her hair down and alluring, and her make-up just right. She sends him a sweet smile, as much as it pained her. "Yes, I am. I will say, you have hurt my ego Officer Bradley, not knowing who I am."

"It's been a long day, forgive me Miss...?" Bradley said. He still didn't know who this lady was but from the way she spoke she seemed to know him and he was sure that once he heard her name he would remember her.

"Anyway, what can I do for you? The captain assigned me to help you with whatever you needed." Bradley said. He wasn't too thrilled about that but he wanted to keep his job.

As he waited for the lady to speak he for some reason thought of Marty. He shouldn't have left him alone for so long. Who knows what he could have done and for all Bradley knew he could be in some form of trouble. It was then and there that Bradley decided he would go back home once this meeting was over.

She smiles at him. What is this world coming too that people don't even know what their elected officials look like? She remembers to stay alluring; right now she needs his trust.

"My name is Morgan Leavey, Chief Executive Morgan Leavey. I am assuming that you are probably wondering why I have called you to such a place to talk Bradley Pendleton, officer in the 31st division of the London police force."

Her hands are clasped in front of her as she approaches him, her eyes inviting and trustworthy. "You may find this question silly but I actually have a few questions regarding a bike that was destroyed about a month ago and resulted in the firing of one of our fine officers, Lance Seger?"

Ana and her talked of how they will play this...she always did have fun pushing Steele around for listening to her...what a moron.

Bradley kept his face neutral even though he knew exactly what she was talking about. The bike. She wanted info on the bike. Could she already know that the bikes were switched? Bradley wasn't sure so he decided to play things by ear.

"What about it? It was removed from impound and then accidentally wrecked. What more is there to tell?" Bradley asked.

Bradley did find it odd that a woman such as the Chief Exec would be interested in some bike, though he didn't say that to Morgan. He was being nice, but inside he already knew that he didn't like this woman.

He was becoming defensive very quickly. She resists the urge to grab at his hurt arm and squeeze, to show this man just how painful she could make his life. She refrains, and simply stands directly in front of him, looking at him through her sharp icy blue eyes.

"Yes, that is what I've heard. You see though...there is a problem with that statement. Specifically...I have it on good authority that the bike in question was not destroyed just staged as a wreck. The officer that was terminated, Lance, could be facing jail time if I don't get this matter cleared up. Now, you are probably wondering why I took such a interest...well you see I've suspected that, for some time, there has been corruption in our police force. I want to take it upon myself to bring an end to this, and I figured I would start with you Mr. Pendleton. You can either save you once partner or he will be facing police interference. I don't want to see that happen."

She truly wanted to threaten him, tell him that inmates do not take well to dirty cops...but she refrained. She will get him in good time; he will give her everything she wants.

"Even if he somehow switched bikes what makes you think he would tell me? Do you seriously think that because he's my partner he's obligated to tell me every little thing that he does? Lance Seger doesn't tell me half of the things he does!" Bradley said, facing Morgan down.

"You can think I'm protecting him all you want but the fact of the matter is this. All I know of is Lance signed the bike out and rode it out of the impound lot. After that...if he did something to the bike or not he didn't tell me. Partners don't tell partners everything for a reason, so just in case something does happen they would have no pertinent information to give. If you want answers to your questions talk to Lance...if he is even alive anymore. He would know better than I if what you are implying is true," Bradley said.

It was at this point in time that he half wished Lance hadn't told him he had switched bikes because then he wouldn't have to lie to Morgan.

She quirks an eyebrow at him, his explanation is too even, an easy way out if she ever heard one. She tilts her head to the side, he is about to bring the beast out of Morgan...and no one wants to be on the other end of that problem.

"Mr. Pendleton, I don't think you understand me. You act as if you don't know, but the reality is you have known for some time that Lance is the high powered hacker that the police have been looking for, and you have done nothing. Now, that could put you in a bit of trouble, just like Lance. I will ask one more time, what happened to the bike. Martin Mysak's mother is looking for it, and she knows it's a fake. You claim to not know, but I know you do. Please, just tell me where it is. If you do I will leave you alone. This is bigger than you Bradley Pendleton, bigger than you can imagine."

She steps even closer to him, her chin high in the air. She has broken more powerful men than Bradley Pendleton. She can break him with only a flick of her wrist. She looks into his eyes, the eyes of a king, and soon the eyes of a dead king.

Bradley smirked. "Don't give me that 'the police is looking for' bull. They too know what Lance is; they have used his expertise on many occasions. Besides, Martin's mother has no claim whatsoever on the bike such as it is. It belongs solely to Marty whether it's in one piece or not," he said.

He had a feeling that she wasn't bluffing. She could really do some serious damage to his career if he didn't tell her something but he couldn't just betray Lance and Marty like that. He couldn't...he wouldn't!

"But...!" he began in a slow and angry tone, "what assurances do I have that you won't touch Seger hmm? I've seen enough movies to know what happens. The second I tell you anything that you presume is valuable information, you screw the both of us over; Lance and I. As far as I know that's exactly what you were planning to do from the beginning!"

She smirks at him, he's got guts she'll give him that. "You are so quick to judge me Mr. Pendleton. I am solely looking for the bike on request on Mrs. Mysak. How much do you know about Martin Mysak's family? The extent of who they were and what they were involved in? They were not just simply wealthy people, no Mr. and Mrs. Mysak were two of the most powerful people in London for awhile, that was until Mr. Mysak's death. Then his son went on a rampage, stealing, drugs, speeding is his favorite. I guess the real question is...do you know who really owns the bike?"

Her eyes become colder, the ice inside of her flares, her magic pulsating, wishing to strike down her enemy. She takes a deep breath. She needs him alive for now. Her hand comes out to caress his sling. She makes herself look alluring. A look that always gets Gavin to spill all of his secrets.

"I will not harm you or Lance. This is not the movies Mr. Pendleton, this is reality. In real life you help me and I help you. I can see you are a righteous fellow, you do not wish to get your friend in trouble, I understand, but honestly I just want to stop the corruption, I want to help. A friend of mine holds Martin very dear to their heart, and I want to help him...and in hopes help her. His mother asked for the bike back because she wishes to return it to him, she thinks it will protect him from other harms. You risked your life for your partner, you expect me to believe he wouldn't trust you with his secrets? I can even get Lance his job back if you can just help me with this. I will never ask anything of you again." Oh Bradley...she will never ask for anything again...she will just destroy you...slowly.

Bradley didn't speak right away. He was at odds as to what to do, and Morgan's sudden closeness to him had creeped him out a little; especially when she touched his sling. For some reason he got the impression that she wanted to rip it off! He knew about Martin's explosive behavior; he knew because he had seen it, hell he had arrested the lad several times because of it! Well...because of the speeding, but still!

He knew the consequences if he said no. Then again he knew the probable consequences if he told her what she wished to know. Who knows what or sensitive information Lance could be storing at the location along with the bike? If anything Morgan would probably get her hands on more dirt about Lance and that was something Bradley couldn't allow to happen.

Morgan said she would help get Lance his job back. Yeah right. Lance didn't even want his job back, he had even said so to Bradley! That got Bradley to thinking. If he said no and just walked out what could happen? Jail time more than likely. The end of his career for sure and wouldn't dear old daddy be pleased?!

Taking a deep breath Bradley let it out slowly; his mind made up. "I am sorry, but I cannot give you the answers you are looking for. But I will tell you this. If you try to go after Lance I will come after you. I will find you and I will bring you down...and all of that implies..." He didn't say 'kill you' because he knew that that would be considered a threat and it could be used against him.

Turning, Bradley left the warehouse. Once outside he broke in to a run. He had a problem, a big problem. Lance and Marty both were in danger; Lance was in danger of being arrested and Marty...Bradley didn't even want to think about him!

Whipping out his phone Bradley stared at the missed call icon. Gavin. The man was still on his bad list but even so...

Without a second thought Bradley pressed the button to return Gavin's call. Putting the phone to his ear he waited for the other man to pick up.

"Come on, come on...answer your damn phone..." he muttered, listening to the tones sounding in his ear.

As he left Morgan realized something, he was a bloody fool. He just played every card and she didn't need to do anything. She walked over to the window, and looked down at Bradley, desperate on his phone. Now who could he be calling. She sighs and pulls out her own cell and dials an all to familiar number, it is time to regroup, and she has more important things to deal with. Like Marty...she can guess the kid is probably living on cloud nine, if his behavior is any indication he's probably under the thumb of many notorious drugs.

The phone rings for a while, odd, but after another moment the other person picks up. "Sister dear, leave whatever it is you are doing, meet me at the address I texted you. I have something more productive to do."


	18. Chapter 17: Complications

"They've lost all power..."

"Sinking fast...!"

"Ballast tanks inoperable!"

"There's nothing we can do."

"MAMA!"

Hearing the voicemail, Gavin sighed. "Great," he whispered under his breath. Realizing that had probably been recorded on the message, he cleared his throat.

"Listen, hey Brad. Sorry about last time. You know it shouldn't have happened. Anyway, there's a hick she's looking for info on you. I told her you were squeaky clean, princess, but forgot your taxes one time. I don't really trust her. Call me back. Ok? I'd like to talk about his situation," Gavin said.

He hung up his phone and put it in his pocket. Before going to work, he needed to check on Lance. Finding the room, he knocked on the door.

Lance Seger slowly opened his eyes as the voices faded from his mind. He didn't know who the voices belonged to but somehow they were eerily familiar. For the first time in his life Lance felt as if he had quite literally been run over by a train.

Everything hurt. As everything came in to focus, Lance realized that he was in a hospital bed. At first he was a little confused as to why he was there, but then he remembered the gun fight and getting shot.

Then he became aware of something that was different. Someone was sitting on the edge of his bed. A lady with a magazine in her hands.

"Who are you?" Lance whispered. He coughed a little because his throat was so dry. Coughing hurt and it took him a moment or two to stop.

"I wouldn't move too much, you've been severely injured."

Her eyes never leave the page of the magazine. She finishes reading her article and then puts the magazine away. She leans back into her chair, her arms fold over her lap. "My name is Katie Summers. I'm your union rep." She cocks an eyebrow, let's see how astute this man really is.

"Union rep..." Lance repeats slowly and softly. He runs that through his mind as he studies the lady before him. "Yeah, sure. And I'm Peter Pan," he says as he fixes her with disbelieving eyes.

"Union reps wouldn't dress so..." Lance paused, not really sure how to continue that train of thought, "fashionably."

He does however take her advice about not moving too much. It was in fact the only smart thing he had heard her say yet. "So, why don't you tell me the truth lady. What's your real name and why are you really here?"

"You are very sarcastic for a man who has suffered such severe injuries." She runs her eyes over the scruffy man before him. She quirks an eye at him, he may be sharp, but he is not that good.

"You are a very astute observer Mr. Seger. I am not a you union rep, but you are not as good as you think. If you had said it was because you got fired yesterday morning I would have been very impressed. Instead, you focus on my outfit, I'm flattered. I am your new lawyer."

Lance was silent for a few moments, his face blank. How the hell did she know he was fired? Sure most people in the department would know by now but who was currently employed and or in the force wasn't public knowledge.

"Lawyer? Who assigned you to me?" Lance asked. The question was not one of sarcasm or disbelief it was merely of curiosity. He had never requested a lawyer and wasn't really sure he wanted one. He wasn't planning on fighting to get his job back so why would he need a lawyer?

Slowly he held out his right hand. An IV was connected to the top of his hand; tape holding it in place but he didn't care. "May I see your credentials?" he asked.

The woman smiles, and hands him a card. "Here is my business card. I wasn't lying, my name really is Katie Summers. I am part of the Summers Associates. My father, Leon, you've probably heard of him? Anyway, I've taken it upon myself to fight against the corruption within the police department. Your captain fired you unjustifiably. You may not want to go against him but what about those who can't? Yours is the first case that has come across my desk that seems like a possible win. This isn't just about you Lance. It's about all those who are terminated unlawfully. You can choose to walk away from this, but remember this is a real chance to help clean up the police force in London."

Ana leans back; her face is a mask of concern, a look of righteousness. She knows he knows about Summer Associates. They are notorious defense lawyers...she should know...they're her defense lawyers. She must call Katie and thank her for her business cards later. She suppresses a smirk.

"I apologize then, Katie," he said. He gave a little sigh, thinking it over for a minute.

"What would you say if I told you I believed there was corruption in the police department?" Lance asked after a moment. He waited for Katie to respond to that because he wanted to gauge how trustworthy she could be. He didn't want to go blabbing to just anyone his concerns about the possible payoffs he believed were taking place.

She gulps, her face a bit dark. "You don't need to say believed. Belief isn't the right word." She takes a breath. Her face is hard, but there's softness around her eyes. "Lance, I know I am some stranger that just showed up at your doorstep asking for your help, but the problem is I have seen the ramifications from the administration. A good friend of mine...she got involved with a dirty cop. Call it revenge, call it justice, but I believe bringing them down is the right thing to do. I don't want her death to be for nothing." Ana even finds it in herself to shed a single tear. If this whole destroying Merlin thing doesn't work out she should really look into acting.

"I'm sorry about your friend," he said, seeing the tear that Katie shed. Inwardly he was still very unsure about telling Katie what he believed because he didn't want things to blow up in his face. He was careful, things like that just could not happen, but what if they did?

"Okay, what do you want to know?" he asked. His question was purposely misleading. He was only willing to tell her so much. He promised himself it was only going to be relevant to the police department, he wouldn't go betraying any of his friends...except Steele of course. That jerk had gotten under his skin one too many times and he wanted to bring the man down hard.

The woman chose her words carefully. "I want to know the information regarding your termination. Your Captain, Steele? Well, he said you had disobeyed direct orders, but it seems that was your only offense. What happened in the incident that made him fire you when your record is perfect otherwise?" She needed that bike.

"There was no direct order given one way or the other. I was just aiding a friend who needed some help. He wanted me to remove an item from impound and hide it. I removed the requested item from impound and...well...accidentally destroyed it when I lost control. It was probably the destruction of property that got me fired." Lance said

A knock on the door caused Lance to look up, a smile coming to his face when he saw who it was. "Gavin!" he said. Being careful not to aggravate his wound Lance waved Gavin in to the room.

"Long time no see buddy!" Lance said.

The roguish man smiled at his friend. "Good to see you, mate. You look like someone was trying to turn you into Swiss cheese," he joked. Shoving his hands into his pocket, he leaned against the wall and took in the scene. Something seemed off. The air was charged. Nerves were frazzled. Why? He couldn't figure it out. A slight frown crossed his face.

"Sorry for not being around for a while. I've been in Scotland and Wales for the last few months doing...investigating stuff. Besides, I don't think Princess would've liked me around after that 1,000 quid tab I left him. I swear, I didn't mean to order the martini's with diamonds in them."

He chuckled a little bit and shook his head as he thought about the incident. It had not ended pretty. His nose was quite crooked due to the fight Brad and he had gotten into. But, Gavin was willing to forgive and forget if Bradley was.

"So, I heard over at the station you were trying to play Batman and save the day," muttered Gavin with quirk of the eyebrow. "What happened?"

Gavin glanced over at the woman in the room. He grinned at her. "Howdy, I don't think we've met. Gavin Sparrow," he introduced, "special agent. I've known Lance here for many years. I've worked with him several times."

Ana smiles and shook the man's hand, her eyes remained as sweet and sincere as ever, but inside she was raging. What is her sisters boy toy doing here? How stupid Morgan could be...a cop? Special agent? What her sister not thinking at all when it came to their futures?

She needed Lance to give up that the bike wasn't totaled, and where exactly he put it. Morgan was going to take on Bradley, get him to squeal like the little pig he is...didn't she put a leash on Gavin when she wasn't playing around with him? She suppressed an eye roll, she would have to call Morgan later and chastise her about this, how annoying.

"My name is Katie Summers, with summers associates? I was actually discussing with Lance about a case we were going to have. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to get Lance's statement in confidentiality, you understand? It will only take a few more moments, they you can have your friend back I promise!"

"Nice to meet you," Gavin replied. "I've heard of 'em. I've worked with 'em too. Wonderful! I'm here to discuss the happenstance of the last few days, too, so why don't we both talk to him? It'll save us both loads of time. Pretend I'm not here, 'kay? I'll face the wall if that helps you any."

The dark haired man then offered his hand to her. When she took it, he kissed it. "So soft and supple," he complimented. "Do you use Creme de la Mer'? I used to be a hand model and that was my lotion of choice."

Lance listened to Gavin; noting his flirting technique. Gavin was a notorious lady's man but whether that actually worked on woman remained to be seen. While he doubted Gavin's charm would actually work on Katie, Lance had no doubt that Gavin was pouring it on! When Gavin mentioned that he too needed a statement, Lance couldn't help but role his eyes.

"If it's all the same to you Katie, if Gavin needs to know the same facts, I'd rather explain this just once." Lance said, taking the document and looking it over. He was hesitant to sign it, not sure if he should. "What do you think Gavin?" Lance asked.

Her smile was inviting. Her eyes are soft, as if she felt guilty and sorry for shooing him away. Inside she was raging...how dare he interfere with her plans. It took all her power not to take deep shallow breaths and put a curse on Gavin...as much as the guy is a toy she knows Morgan is quite fond of him...how dull. She needed to get rid of him, and then she needed to tell Morgan to keep her toys locked up and out of her hair in the future.

It was hard but somehow Lance resisted the urge to snort. "Swiss cheese huh? I've had worse." he replied. When Gavin mentioned Bradley, Lance nodded his head solemnly. "Bradley doesn't talk about you much. I think he still blames you for his two week suspension even though between the two of us I think it was his fault entirely."

Then it came down to it - the shootout. Gavin wanted to know how it all happened and truthfully Lance didn't really know what to tell him. He was still trying to decide what to say when Katie butted in and asked him to leave. "Ma'am, I'm sure there is not much more I can tell you that you don't already know," Lance said to Katie.

Ana looks at Lance doe eyed. She takes a deep breath, as if she is a small child desperate for their parent's attention. She can tell Lance is a 'save the world' kind of man...and who doesn't like a damsel in distress? Marty...She shakes him from her mind.

"Mr. Seger, I have some sensitive information I wished to share with only you." She glances over to Gavin. "I don't mean to distrust your friend but it is imperative that I talk to you alone about it. I don't want to endanger my case. I know your friend would never talk but the fewer ears that know about this the better. Before I bring all the facts to light I need to make sure they are 100% true, and I can't risk them being leaked to internal affairs."

She looks over at Gavin, she has the desire to go over and smack him a little...though she's sure her sister has done that plenty. She never understood Morgan's taste in men, always rough cowboy types, never clean cute. Ana was more into dark men, those who could elevate her with power...like Marty...she shakes her head again, those are dangerous thoughts indeed.

"Yup. I'm not the only one calling you Swiss cheese man either. Lee, Eli, and Percy are all in on it," Gavin said with a laugh. "They also aren't quite sure if you're really stupid or really brave for joining in on that little shootout. Me, I think you're both."

The unruly haired man shrugged. "I probably am to blame. I did get those martinis, even if I didn't mean to," Gavin said. "And I did charge Brad's credit card also, so I think I'd be pretty pissed off if I were in his shoes."

Sure enough, he turned his back on the two and faced the wall. "Man, this place is so boring. How plain is white? How could anyone heal in such conditions? There's nothing interesting to look at," rambled Gavin.

He sighed and turned back around. "Ma'am, I have to know the story, too," replied Gavin. He pulled out his badge and showed her. "I'm head of the case with the shootout and the bike. There might be a connection in it, so I have to hear all the facts from all sides."

She looked back to Lance, debating the ramifications of having Gavin around. He was his sister's errand boy and the more he talked the more she wanted to punch him. How does my sister sleep with that?!, the art of fornication is apparently lost on Ana. She sucks in a breath, and then looks to the side; there is only one real way to handle this.

"If you wish him to stay he must sign a confidentiality clause, stating that anything he hears between me and you Lance, my client, is strictly inadmissible in court. I your protection in this, because the next words I say to you might cause some problems. I know about the shooting last night...but unfortunately Lance that is the least of your problems."

Ana turns around to the window, and opens the briefcase. She pulls out a folder, she opens the folder. She knows doing magic with them in the room is risky, but she is an expert. She just simply blows on the document, her eyes go gold and suddenly words fall onto the page, making it look like a generic certificate of confidentiality. She turns back to the men, and takes he food tray from Lance.

"May I borrow this?" She quickly scribbles their names in the correct boxes, and signs her name at the bottom of both. She hands the correct documentation back to the men. "Please just sign this, and we can continue." She must suppress her impatience. She should have had that bike by now.

The man raised his hands to his side and shrugged. "I can't do that, now, can I? I'm a detective, you see. Anything I do hear I have to report, lest I want to lose my job. Which, sweet cheeks, I don't really want. Besides, I'm not in the business of sacking my friend. I'm working to sack the villains of this real life fairytale," said Gavin. His voice was even and calm.

Gavin watches her. Something seems off. He's certain of it. "Of course you may borrow anything you want, but I'm not going to sign it," said the man. "You can't make me. Legally, I can't sign it. I've got to report all of the truth."

The man looked over at his friend. "I don't think we should sign anything. This feels wrong," whispered Gavin in Lance's ear. "Something's not right. I don't trust her."

She could sense his hesitation, she wanted to jump up and shake this man, what happened to trusting others in this world? Remember who you are Ana...Her eyes soften, she must make him believe her. She sighs and is about to give a spiel about how this is important or there will be ramifications later when her phone goes off.

"Excuse me." She looks down at the caller ID. "Yes."

She listens to her sisters message, she was so close to screaming. She truly wanted to just hurt her sister, she was so close! Ugh this day...she will need a nice hot bubble bath after this. "Understood. I will meet you there." She turns to both men, her eyes soft and compassionate.

"I am so sorry, I must go. That was the office. Something has come up with one of my other cases. You have my car and I hope we can talk at a later date. Mr. Seger, Mr. Sparrow."

She resisted the urge to curtsy, it suddenly felt oddly appropriate in the presence of these two men. She turns to grab her briefcase and when she turns back her body is thrown back to Camelot, both men are dressed in chainmail and red capes...Arthur's red capes. She gasps and her head screams for a moment. She grabs her hair and huffs. "Ah!"

She shakes and when she opens her eyes she's back in the hospital room. She looks towards both men, suddenly feeling embarrassed, her mind running back to a scared ward who feared her upcoming powers. She takes a deep breath, Morgan gave her an assignment she must complete it.

"Gentlemen."

She walks out with as much dignity as she can. When she is out of the door she looks down at her phone, wondering where Morgan wishes to meet her and why it is so important. When she turns on her Droid X2 the text comes up and it only says one thing - Bradley's House.

Gavin straightened up as his phone rang. He didn't answer it yet though. "Good bye, Katie," he said. Gavin glanced at Lance. "I've gotta go too. I've got business."

The man left the room and then the hospital. His phone was amazingly still ringing by the time he was outside. Gavin picked it up. "`Ello Princess," quipped the man. "I'm glad you called back. I think you've got some troubles, mate. Someone's been asking me about you – Morgan. She wanted to know stuff. I told her you were squeaky clean. But, uh…that you forgot to pay your taxes one year."

Gavin walked down the street. He stopped when he saw two women at his house. "Hey, you home, Brad? Did you know you have company," whispered the man as he stopped to pretend to inspect all of the balloons someone was selling by Bradley's home.


	19. Chapter 18: Sneak Attack

Bradley rolled his eyes when he heard the name 'Princess.' God it really made his blood boil to hear it but then when he heard mention of a name he completely froze.

"M...MORGAN? She...I just got through talking to her too. She wanted information that I couldn't give her; information concerning Lance and the whereabouts of Mysak's bike." Bradley said, still running as fast as he could to get home.

What he heard next sent a chill down his spine. They were already there?! AT. HIS. HOME?!

"Gavin, I know we've had our differences in the past, but right now I need your help. Marty is staying at my house and if someone has broken in. Gavin, you have to protect him till I get there. I'm almost home, but I need your help."

"If you need a weapon, I've got some in my police cruiser out front just...please...protect Marty." Bradley said in to his cell phone's receiver.

"I guess she was prepping for your little meet and greet. She popped up at my apartment this morning," muttered Gavin. "I'm interested in the bike too, to be honest. But, only because it's part of my case."

Gavin listened to the instructions. Even though Bradley could not see him, he nodded a bit. "Got it, boss," said the man. "Wait, who's Marty? Does he have something to do with the bike?"

The man peaked around the balloons. "I think she's already in there," he hissed. "By the way, I'm out in front of your house."

Gavin went to the car and grabbed the gun. He checked to see if it's loaded and then stuffed it into his belt-buckle. "I got it, but I doubt I'll need it. Morgan and I have a special little arrangement," he said. "I'll see ya soon. I'm heading in."

The man closed his phone and pocketed it. Climbing the stairs, he prepared for…whatever would happen. He reached into a flower pot and grabbed the key. Unlocking it, the man entered. "Candygram," he called.

She almost groaned, she didn't allow herself. She walked out to be greeted with him, usually seeing him make her blood boil. Oh wait her blood was boiling, from rage. Her pet is really acting up, hers - she has some possessive feeling to grab his ears and kiss him senseless. She can't remember the last time she kissed hi, .really kissed him. She can feel his change. His loyalty to her is faltering. She rolls her eyes instead, she knows this is over if he is here.

She walks forward, grabs his shoulder and kisses his ear. "Meet me at your house."

Her voice is dark and husky. She will not stick around for this, if Gavin is here, that means the Boy Scout isn't far behind. She makes a swift exit out, and towards her car. She will talk to him in private...maybe.

The man grins. "All right. I'll make you lasagna that will make you think you've died and gone to heaven," said the man. "Does that sound good, my lovely little Daffodil?"

Gavin leaned against the counter and grinned at her. "Bring the merlot, ok," he asked as she left. The man moved once she was gone.

Keeping the gun with him, he checked each room. There was nothing. Coming to the last door, he tried the door. It was locked. "Hmmm…" he said, staring at the closed wooden door.

Bradley skittered to a halt at his police cruiser. He was almost completely out of breath, having run all the way home from the warehouse district. Things were becoming bad, that was plain to see. Someone had broken in to his house and that to him was completely unacceptable. It was like his sanctuary had been disturbed; the one place he could go to to relax and it had been defiled. Opening up the trunk of his car Bradley withdrew his loaded shotgun and snuck in to the house.

He heard Gavin mumbling something near the back of the house, and so he snuck towards the noise. Glancing around the corner he saw Gavin outside of Marty's closed bedroom door.

"Still locked?" Bradley asked. He didn't say 'hi' or 'what's the situation?' no he wanted to see if he could make Gavin jump or not. Going to the bedroom door Bradley tried it but it was indeed locked. Rolling his eyes Bradley reached up and loosened the one screw on the air vent that was by the door. Removing the grate, he reached in and withdrew one shiny, silver key.

Fitting the key in to the lock, he heard the lock click. The door was now unlocked! Not wasting any more time Bradley opened the door, but made sure to stand his ground. Inside he saw Ana and Marty. Marty looked terrible and Ana didn't look so good herself.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you where you stand, " Bradley said to Ana. He knew he was well within his rights to do so because she was in his house.

Her brother's presence startles her, her emotions are high. There is only one thought that enters her mind at this moment, one feeling. Broken.

"You should."


	20. Chapter 19: The Dark Path

Marty eased himself onto the bed. Resting his head on the pillow, he rolled onto his side. Filled with numbness, he stared blankly ahead – not seeing anything distinctly. It was all shadows and blurs of color. Hunger gnawed at his stomach and climbed its way up his throat. It was a different hunger – one that could never be fulfilled by food alone. He would fight it. By the gods, he would. He had for three, long and arduous months. However, Martin knew this fight was futile. The black-haired man knew he wouldn't win this time.

Hearing Bradley on the other side of his room, he looked at the door. Martin grunted a quiet, "OK." He didn't get up to open the door. He just lay there, staring. When he heard Bradley's retreating footsteps, he stood.

Sitting down at the desk in his room, he pulled out his charcoals, pencils, and markers. With sweat on his brow, he began to draw. It was his only way to fight and to eased the tension in his body. Every muscle was taught as he drew flowers and broken hearts and words. He even drew a portrait of Bradley. He kept working all night even when his hands were numb from pressing. Once done and out of ideas, he put them all in a manila folder and pushed it aside.

Dawn was rising and Bradley apparently was still gone – doing whatever it was cops do. He was hungrier than ever. Pushing himself away from the desk, he marched from his room and into his roommates sleeping quarters.

Staring at the money hidden in the sock drawer, Marty felt sick. As he took 70 quid (roughly 150 US dollars), the man thought he could throw up. He didn't. Exiting the home, he pocketed the money and then he went to four different drug stores. At each place, he bought 2 syringes and at his last stop he also bought a pack of lighters.

With eyes darting, he looked around as he crossed the street. Out in front of a run-down home, Marty saw a dealer. "Four grams of your best stuff," he whispered.

Exchanging the money for the goods, Marty took his stash and headed back home. Turning off all of the lights, he grabbed a spoon, a cup of water, and a cloth napkin. Laying out the equipment, he placed the drugs in the spoon with some water and melted it with the lighter. Then, taking the syringes he filled each of them with a 1/4th of a cc.. Tightening the make-shift tourniquet, he shot up.

Instantly, his pupils dilated and he felt relaxed. Marty sighed as he sat on the footstool. He pulled the tourniquet off and threw it to the side, along with the used needle. Martin never reused his supplies. He didn't want AIDS.

After about a half hour, the drugs started to wear off. He began to shake as sweat formed on his brow. He rubbed his arms and rocked. Marty stared at the rest of the drugs in horror. "What have I done," he whispered.

Marty heard a noise outside the front door. It was the first sound he'd heard for hours. Panicked, he wiped his nose and then gathered his materials. Chucking the empty needle in the trash, Marty went to his room and locked the door.

He didn't want to face Bradley or anyone at this moment. He wasn't sure he could. Nervously, he paced his room. No lights were on. He didn't want his space lit.

Needing to do something, Marty sat down. He felt for paper and a pen. He began to draw a face – her face. Fay's face .It was his lovely girlfriend, who was gone. He then drew his best friend – Willie. Last, he drew his father. Both of those men were gone too.

A tear slid down his cheek as he stood again. Pushing the paper away, he crept to his door. Grabbing another syringe and the cloth napkin, he shot up a second time. Marty lay on his bed then and stared vacantly at the ceiling. His body shook and twitched as tears poured down his pale and sweaty face. Never before had he hated himself more than he did right then.

"What is so bloody important that you called me all the way here?"

They were outside Bradley's house. Morgan was standing tall in her powerful suit, Ana mimicked her in black.

"We are going to have some fun Ana. Remember when we used to jump into homes? Well...I think it would be fun to do it again with Bradley's home. I know he knows where the bike is. We just need to get the information then leave."

Ana stared at Morgan, for some reason the thought of breaking into Bradley's house didn't sit right with the younger sister. She may hate Marty, but Bradley, her once brother has done nothing to her. She only wanted to help those with magic. Then Marty, Merlin, poisoned her and she became this heartless woman. She took a deep breath, her eyes closed.

"I won't do this."

"What do you mean you won't?" Morgan crossed her arms in front of her body. Ana couldn't do this, not today, something is wrong.

"I can't, won't. Morgan, I don't want to invade his home, I just...something is wrong. I can't do this now."

"You can and you will, what is wrong with you sister? Starting to develop feelings for these people? They are beneath us."

"Says the woman who is sleeping with one of them."

Morgan's eyes glowed, how dare Ana. "Bite your tongue sister."

Ana looks to the side, her body shaking, rigid with power. Her sister, her blood, is hurting her other blood. What can she do, what can she feel? She can't do this today; her body will not allow this. "Go sister, I trust your judgment, but I cannot. I do not wish to fight with you. I love you Morgause."

The name softened the features of the elder priestess; she grabbed for Ana and hugged her. "Something is wrong. You are not telling me something."

"My powers have been reacting oddly. I feel as if I will be more of a burden than a solution. Go, I know how much fun you have doing something wicked."

Morgan grabbed Ana's face and ran a hand over her cheek. The younger woman suddenly felt weak, something really was terribly wrong. Morgan nodded towards Ana.

"Go home. I will take care of this."

Ana nodded, she went to her car when something caught her off guard. "Morgan, where is your car?"

The blond woman smirked. "It is three block away...should have left it at home...there are more fun ways to get in and out of another home." Morgan smiles and Ana rolls her eyes.

"You are too much sister." The younger woman drives off and Morgan watches her go. Her sister is losing her resolve, something horrid is changing. She must find a way to put an end to her confliction. She turns towards the house, and walks up to the door.

"Iontráil"

And she walks through the door, as if it isn't even there.

She stepped inside of his home, and ran her fingers over the cheap linoleum and crappy carpeting. This was definitely a place for a man. She looked over at the island, a piece of postage stuck out to her, she went over to pick it up, a single address was on the piece of paper. Could this be it? Could this be where the bike is? The possibility made her blood spike, but she couldn't risk it being this easy.

She walked over to the cabinets. She put her hand on the hard surface and her face flashes back for a moment. That stupid man comes before her eyes, his hard body, his large hands holding her up. Her fingers scratch into the surface, she has a feeling something is going on with her favorite pet, and she can't have that. Her mind flashes to another moment, the first time she woke up next to him, years before she got her memories back. Her heart was so different then, she pure, so ready to love.

She looks out to Bradley's backyard, the woman before her is a shell compared to the powerful force she had become. She had changed so drastically, even her affairs turned from love to simple elevation. She tilts her head slightly, for a second, alone in a strangers house that she broke into, Morgan remembers her compassion, though it was only second.


	21. Chapter 20: Damages Shared

She stopped her car next to Morgan's, something felt off, shattered. Broken. She parks her car, and sits in the driver's seat, her body humming. She looks around, a quiet family street, the sun may be out but she needs help right now.

"Nocht comhlacht"

Her wrist cuts itself and the stars whisper, she sees his face, he looks sad.

"Tell me where he is."

She whispers to the stars and they sing if lowly. She can feel his pain, he is close. Her eyes shoot open. Oh no. He's in that man's house; he's in Bradley's home. She suddenly feels the pull to run towards him, she even forgets to complete the spell. The cuts on her wrist are still visible as she walks. They're only covered by her sleek jacket.

She walks to the other side of the house, careful to avoid the widows of the backyard. Her magic is still pumping; she can feel something, pain maybe? Maybe he wasn't here...she has to check, something is drawing her into this home. She goes to the window; the stars pull her toward the surface.

"Oscail"

The lock clicks. She looks down to her wrist, she needs to keep the connection with the stars...but she can't have open wounds being seen.

"Clúdach"

The spell made the cuts close and look more like powerful scars. She moves the window open, and slowly steps in. She is quiet; she does not want to arise suspicion with Morgan. She turns and slowly clasps the window shut. She slowly turns, and looks to the door first. Locked good...

She takes off her shoes as to not make any noise on the carpet, and to keep her balance as to not fall over...three inch heels are not made for sneaking. She looks around the dark room, but she only gets halfway. She pads over to a book, the pages are worn, someone loves these drawings. First, sitting on top of the trash was a syringe, she smirks.

"Boy goes hardcore," she whispers into the room, her voice in one of an impressed individual. She looks down to the paper, first is of lilies, they make her feel warm, of somewhere she wishes to be. Then there are a few others...but her eyes finally settle on the 'Broken' picture. She brings it to her face, she scans it for a moment, her breath caught in her throat.

Broken.

Broken.

BROKEN.

It screams at her, the stars pulsate, even in their cooled state. She shakes more, her hand coming to her lips, tears pouring down her face. Her finger clenches, crumbling the piece as she falls back. Her hands come to her face, her tears smudging the artwork. She trembles, suppressing the urge to cry out, for everything she's lost. Harriet's words run over her, her inadequacies, the horrible things she has done.

She falls back, her knees squishing together, her back hitting a wall. She bites her hand, only a small squeak coming out. You can trust me Morgana. For a moment she did, for a while he was her only confidant. She feels as if he is close. She wants to reach out to him, to have him tell her that it will be ok, to protect her. She wants his goofy grin back; his devotion to his friends. Her lips tremble again; the constriction of her throat reminds her why she will not see that face look her way again. The tears start up again.

Marty lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Soundless tears fall down his cheeks. Tight and slow breaths rip from his lungs and exit his mouth and nose – it's a laborious job. His lips are curled under in disgust at himself.

When someone entered the room, he didn't move. He didn't look. He didn't care. He hoped the person would leave actually. But, it didn't seem whoever it was, was going to. Was it Bradley? Marty didn't think so because Brad would not have snuck into his room through a window. Instead, the being looked through his stuff Martin noticed as he turned his head. He frowned. That wasn't right!

He shakily pushed himself up and got off the bed. With eyes flashing and glazed over from the drugs, he strode over to the person. The young man loomed over her. "What are you doing here," he demanded. "What are you doin' with my stuff? You've got everything else of mine. You feel like ruining the rest of it?"

Her eyes flash open when she is addressed. She trembles when she looks up, when did he get in here? She lets go of the picture, she cannot speak cannot feel. Her throat constricts. It's the same, always the same. She wants to run, to move, to do something.

She can't move, his words ring like Uther's, scolding her for being an insignificant girl. Her opinions, her voice means nothing. She is nothing more than a doll at this point, a broken pathetic excuse of a woman. She looks up at his eyes, they are hazed over. He is high. And for some reason his words break her more than they should.

She brings her knees up, her skirt suddenly feeling very small on her body. She can't look at him anymore, he may be high but his strong blue gaze makes her feel even smaller. She brings her head into her knees, her body shakes as she cries into her flesh.

"I don't even know..." And honestly...she doesn't.

Marty stoops and picks up the drawing. He turns his back on her. Sitting down, he lays the drawing on the table. Carefully, he smoothed it until there are few wrinkles left. Then, he pulls out his charcoals and begins to correct the smudging. His sweaty brow is furrowed as he works and there is intensity flickering through his eyes as he studies the work. After a good ten minutes of work, he puts it back in the folder.

"Of course you do! You always do or at least act like that," he says. His voice is quiet and his glassy gaze is penetrating. "You've got to know and you've got to tell me."

He crosses his arms over his chest. He's trying to hide the two track marks, even though she probably knows he's tripping on the golden liquid he'd just shot into his veins. Marty also starts to pace, but doesn't look at her any more. He couldn't really see her anyway – too many tears are falling from his eyes.

"You just can't leave me alone, can you? What do you want of me Morgana? What? I've got nothing left to give. I've got no one. I've got nothing. I bloody mess up everything I do. I can't…I can't even stay clean," Marty rambles. He doesn't even realize the name he's called her. "I can't do a thing without having to sleep. I drop everything. All the things I own are gone. All the people I care about gone. My art isn't even as good as it used to be. I've got nothing."

His throat is sore. It's like he was yelling, but the dark-haired man's voice hadn't even risen above a whisper. Marty shakes his head. "And you don't care. You don't know how," he accuses.

Her lip trembles as he yells at her. It may come out as a whisper but it feels like the deepest scream. She should tell him to be quiet, that Morgan is here, but she can't find it in herself. The fire, revenge, shakes her to her core. She looks up at him. She can see the tears, they match her own. She wants to go home, back to Camelot, back to before, when she didn't know of her magic, when her life was simple - when this man didn't invade her every thought. She is a pathetic woman.

"You know nothing of me, do you Marty?" She looks up at him, so broken, her emotions so fragmented. She wants to scream her incantation, to revel in the cuts on her body, to hear the stars sing, instead of the whisper they are sending towards her. She looks at her wrist as it sets upon her legs; the longing to be in pain suddenly overwhelms her. She is startled by the name slip, her lip trembles. How she longs to be called Morgana again...to be that woman. She has to rectify this soon; her body is an emotional wreck.

She tries to regain composure. She is a powerful woman. She should remember that. She moves against the wall, but as she moves up her head spits, a rush of blood seeps into her brain and she falters and falls back down - pathetic.

She looks at her hands, finely manicured, sharp beautiful rings. She sees her tears drop on the rich crystals. "You know nothing of who cares for you Marty. You know nothing in the abandonment of love."

She shakes and then stands up in front of him, slower this time. She tilts her chin in the air, but her eyes give away her pain, her longing.

"You don't know how much I've cared, what I've done in the past. Nothing I do is correct...you can't stay clean...I could never scrub my skin hard enough to get the dirt off my flesh."

Her head falls back onto the hard surface, her lip trembles, she looks to the ceiling, her knees bent, her body arched, raw, pathetic...

"Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I've seen enough of what you've done to know I don't want to know. Maybe I've experienced enough to know I shouldn't know a thing. I see who you are and I don't like it," he hisses.

He stops pacing for a minute. He is so tired. His body wants him to lie down. It's even wobbling, but he doesn't. He just stands there, staring. His hands ball into fists and then he releases.

"No one cares about me! And I think I do know. By the gods, I do know," he whispered. "My own mother detests me. My uncle can't stand the sight of me. My roommate sure doesn't care, even if he claims to – he's arrested me six times. My father was murdered. My girlfriend and best friend are both dead. I have no house, no money, nothing!"

He shakes his head. "Cared? You don't know how to care for anyone but yourself," Marty spat. "Oh, you do care for one other thing, at least your company does – money and things."

Her eyes become sharp, he thinks he knows everything, has it all figured out. Her tears pour, but they become angry.

"Do you ever hear yourself Marty? I, I, I...you think you know me so well, but look at yourself. You can't stop crying over your own problems, the things that have wronged you. Your father died? Join the club, I lost both my parents at the age of 20, died by an idiot drunk driver. I push forward because I have nothing. At least you have your mother and uncle. I would give anything for that."

For a moment she is not Morgana...but Ana. The young girl with hopes and dreams, striving for one day becoming something better than she was, climbing higher into a future of so many possibilities...and this boy is insinuating that she doesn't care.

She moves forward and grabs his shirt to bring him face to face with her, he is so close, but all she can think about is how naive he is.

"I know everything about you Marty. You lost your father, Basil, girlfriend, Fay, and best friend, Willie. You have been on a downward spiral for years since their passing and the only thing to keep you going is your drugs and bike. Now that I've informed you of your life, let me give you a taste of reality. I grew up a lower middle class child, my parents did their best but there were months that we ate just mac n cheese, and that was fine. I loved my parents, but they were the only people I allowed myself to love. I ended up in a coma for a week and in that time they had passed. I couldn't even tell them goodbye. I am sorry about you father, I am sorry that you choose every second to accuse me, of something so heinous, but don't think that for one moment you know me. You know nothing."

"Of course I hear myself," he remarked. Hurt in his eyes. He shook his head. "Yeah, and they hate my guts. I don't see them. I don't want to see them. I don't care if I never see them again. Actually, I don't care about anything."

Marty pulls away. His eyes are wide. "Don't touch me. Don't," he growls. He young man wipes his eyes. "Just leave me alone. Leave…now. Just go. Just leave. But, before you do, the drugs don't keep me going. Do you honestly know how much I hate myself? I hate the drugs. You think you know so much about me, but you don't know everything."

She doesn't leave though. She continues talking. He uncrosses his arms and crosses them again. "It's better that you didn't. I saw my father die, surrounded by his own blood. I held him as he died. I saw the same black car that's followed me everywhere for years pull away from the scene," Marty remarks. "And you know…that car put me into a coma for four days. It gets even better, I leave to check on my bike and the car follows me. It nearly runs Bradley over. It would've if I hadn't pushed him away. But, as a result…I had to have part of my skull removed." He lifted his hairline and showed her his healing wound."

"Who else am I to blame? You wanted my father's things more than anything in the world. I heard the conversations before his death. You wanted more than what you got though. You wanted his research – at least your company did," Marty raved in a quiet voice.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Please, just go. I want to be alone. I'm really tired," Marty said. The young man went back to his bed. Drawing his knees up, he rolled over onto his side.

Her eyes harden; she shakes her head, her hands in fists at her side.

"Once again you hear nothing Marty. You are too quick to make your own point that you haven't heard a word I've said. My company only wants money, you are correct, and I guess by default I am my company."

She laughs, but it sounds twisted and pained. His rejection of her hurts more than she can bear. She misses the days when he was her only confidant. Her voice is suddenly small, like a scared child.

"I know nothing of your father's things. If you knew me so well you would know that I change cars every year. I can't stand to have the same car, it reminds me of the van my father drove around for 15 years. An old Chevy, not a speedy car but would get us to soccer practice. I have to change all the time, because if I stand still I remember and it hurts. So no, with your logic alone I had nothing to do with your father's death, my cars the last 3 years have been either silver or red, this is the first time I've had black. I don't usually like the color on my car, too easily lost in a crowd."

She turns towards him, the tears have stopped. Her pain rages, but that is the woes of life. For a moment she is sincere, for when she looks at him she wishes everything to be different.

"I will leave. I still don't know why I'm here, but I guess it doesn't matter. You've already assumed the worst of me, and I guess I deserve it."

She walks over to the window and opens the lock, her body shaking. The realization that she may never have this intimacy with him again pains her. She wants Merlin back. She wants to tell him her secrets and have him assure her it will be ok. Her eyes sadden again. She turns to Marty one last time.

"You should know that your mother came to see me. She informed me that the bike that was totaled wasn't yours and asked me to return it to you, hoping her initials on the bike would provide you with protection. So I guess that's why I am here, I had it on authority your new friend had it. I was trying to do the right thing and once again I end up a foolish woman. Imagine that."

Marty looks at her with his eyebrows raised. "Oh really? If it's not you, it's someone at your company who's interested. I've been there enough times and I've passed it enough times to recognize the car from the unpleasant meetings I've had with it," he replies. "And I'm really surprised you wouldn't want the paperwork my father gave me. It would make your company worth trillions."

He shook his head. "I only assume the worst from how I've treated. Got it? Good. If you treated someone with a little more decency, you might get it in return," Martin said. "I fully believe in what comes around, goes around."

"Oh really," he said. The tone clearly shows he doesn't believe her. "There's no bike here, by the way. Just little ol' Marty."

He pushes himself off the bed when he hears rattling. Someone's trying the door. "Crud," he whispered.


	22. Chapter 21: Bad Choice

Of all of the things he was expecting Ana to say, 'I wish you would' wasn't one of them. He felt his finger squeezing the trigger of his shotgun, so he had to force himself to take his finger off of the trigger.

"Turn around and put your hands behind your head. If you try to run, I will shoot you!" Bradley warned. He had handcuffs in his pocket and truth be told he wasn't afraid to use them. In the back of his mind he was concerned about Marty. Who knows what Ana had said to him and what kind of damage control he was now expected to do.

Gavin looked over at Bradley. "Yeah," he replied. "I didn't want to blow the door handle off or anything. I was ready to get a screw driver and take it off its hinges." The guy watched as Grad got a key and unlocked it. "Or that'll work."

Marty looked at the two men who now were standing in the doorframe. "Put it down, Brad. Put down the gun," he said with a sad voice. "Nothing got hurt…except a drawing…you're window's fine. She was just getting ready to leave actually."

He groaned. "Now, let's not go shooting anyone, OK, even if she wants it. I just cleaned the carpets and it would be a shame to get them all dirty again," Marty remarked.

Bradley's attention was focused solely on Ana, but when Marty asked him to put the gun down, he shifted his focus to the younger man. How could he defend Ana?!

"She shouldn't have broken in at all, Marty!" Bradley said through clenched teeth, refocusing his attention on Ana.

The young man was feeling overwhelmed and panicked. He was hungry again. Cautiously, the guy reached behind him and grabbed the syringes. Marty was glad it was dark and that Bradley was focused on Ana instead of him. "I'm going to the loo."

He wasn't paying attention to Marty. This was how the younger man managed to grab the needle without being seen. When he had said he was going to the restroom, Bradley did let him leave the room.

Marty headed out of the room and went to the bathroom before anyone could stop him. He closed the door and leaned against it. Grabbing a hand towel, he tied it around his arm and shot up again. Pulling off the towel, he dropped it and the needle on the floor beside him. Tiredly, he leaned his head back against the door as more tears fell.

"You have gone too far this time Ana," Bradley said as he finally stepped in to the room. "I know I shouldn't and I'll probably kick myself for this later but Get. Out. If I ever see you again I won't be so merciful. And stay away from Marty, he's under my protection. If you so much as breathe on him I will hunt you down. Now get out of my house before I change my mind!"

He didn't wait to see if she actually did it because he left Marty's room and went to the restroom to check on Marty. Bradley figured Gavin would see that Ana left the house which was why he didn't stick around to see if she left.

Hearing a noise at the door, Marty moved. Besides, he didn't really want Bradley to see him hunkered on the ground like yesterday's rubbish (even if he felt that way right now). He closed the toilet seat and sat down on it. Then, he waited for Bradley to enter.

Marty decided he must've made the stuff pretty weak. He had only used 2 of the 4 grams in the 8 syringes. Plus, it had been mixed with water. His urges for the stuff was stronger than ever and came so soon after a hit.

The guy gulped as he thought about the drugs and what he'd done to get them. "What have I done," he whispered. Marty wrapped his arms around himself as he rocked. Martin's nose and dilated eyes ran uncontrollably, but he didn't care. "What have I done?"

Taking a deep breath Bradley knocked on the restroom door. "Marty?" He called. He listened for a moment and when he didn't hear anything he took the chance and opened the door. The first thing Bradley saw was Marty sitting on the toilet seat, looking downright miserable. The second thing he saw was the white hand towel on the ground and as well as the used needle that was beside it.

Entering in to the room, Bradley selected a tan washcloth from the side of the sink before he knelt down next to the evidence on the floor. Carefully, using the washcloth he picked up the needle and examined it for a moment.

He was angry and disappointed in Marty. But he knew he couldn't just go off on him. That would only make the situation worse.

Wordlessly he looked up and watched Marty rock. For a moment Bradley wondered if Marty was sobbing. Then he figured Marty's attitude was due to the drugs now coursing through his system.

Slowly Bradley stood up. The washcloth covered needle still in his hands. Carefully Bradley placed the washcloth in the sink, making sure the needle stayed in it before he walked the two steps over to Marty.

He usually wasn't one for being overly comforting to anyone, but seeing Marty this way caused his heart to bleed. So Bradley put a comforting hand on Marty's shoulder before he knelt down so that Marty was taller than he was. "Marty..." Bradley began. "You've been doing drugs again. I can't say that I applaud the decision you made, but I do understand it."

She was numb. In mere moments she had been caught, found out, and scolded like the child she is. She wants to fight back, lash out. She suddenly has the urge to call Bradley 'Uther'. She does none of those things. she looks towards Gavin slightly. She quirks an eyebrow at him, and as she walks by she whispers ever so softly.

"Tell my sister I say hi tonight."

She hopes to confuse and bewilder him. She knows Morgan will kill her when she finds out that she's gives up that information but she can't help it. Gavin stands so high and mighty and she has the urge to knock him down a few pegs. She can't do anything to Bradley or Marty but she can at least rattle Gavin's cage. She has one moment before she leaves, she always has to have the last word.

"Get him in a cold shower and give him plenty of water or he'll dehydrate. Heroin is the worst of all withdrawals." She walks out then, not hearing anything else they could possibly say.

Gavin watched the scene over Ana's shoulder. He was numbed by the situation. He finds that he's actually felt sorry for the young man sitting on the john. Normally, Gavin would just arrest the punk for the drug paraphernalia and Heroin possession. But, this isn't a normal situation. It actually felt wrong to arrest him. Besides, the kid was being taken care of by Bradley and he got the feeling this guy hated what he was doing to himself, but he couldn't stop on his own. Marty needed help and Gavin hoped Bradley could give it to him.

When Ana spoke to him, he looked at her. He raised an eyebrow. "Will do, Katie, or should I say Ana," he said. Gavin smirked at her. The dark haired man had known something had been off. He knew he recognized her. Now, he knew how and why. He'd seen a picture of Ana in Morgan's office.

"Hey, Brad, I'm going. If you need anything, you know my number," called the young detective.


	23. Chapter 22: Dinner

Out the door, he closed it and headed to the closest grocery store. He went isle to isle finding the items he needed – fancy mushrooms, Italian cheeses, fresh sausages, organic sauces, and his favorite brand of noodles (which happened to be on sale) as well as items for salad. Paying for the goods, he went to the flat and found Morgan.

Entering, he watched Morgan for a minute. A pleasured smile is on his stubble-covered face. He then whistles. "You look gorgeous, Daffodil," he said as he put the bags on the counter. Grabbing a skillet and drizzling olive oil in the pan, he pops the sausage in and turns on the burner. Letting the meat start to cook, he goes over to Morgan. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he kisses her.

She kisses him back. His lips feel the same. The sharp stubble of his chin teases her lips. It only lasts a moment before she pulls from him completely. She is not happy with him, and she is not going to give herself to him so quickly. Not after the crap he pulled today.

Normal women would be elated by the compliment, but it just boils her blood further. How dare he just walk in and kiss her! He has crossed so many lines with her tonight. She is beyond furious, but none of that shows. She is a simple mask of indifference. She wonders how well the great Gavin Sparrow knows her now.

She walks away from him. Her hips moving sensually from side to side. She glances over to the skillet, hearing the meat wine and sizzle makes her cock her head. What is he trying to pull tonight? What is she even doing here? She turns to him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her face is fairly neutral but her mind is running. She doesn't know what to do with him in this moment. Her chin is high in the air challenging him. She hopes he isn't stupid enough to think he will just get what he wants tonight. How dull would that be?

The dark-haired man eyed Morgan as she pulled away. "What's the matter, Daffodil," he asked. "Do I need a shave?" It had been a couple days since he had done so. Gavin had two interconnecting cases right now as well as his own research for Morgan.

Moving to the kitchen, he filled a pot with water and then threw some of the noodles in. After about 8 minutes, they are cooked through. Pulling another pan on, he lines the bottom with them. Then, he puts in some of the meat, sauce, and cheese. Then, there is another layer of noodles, meat, sauce, and cheese. Taking a hotpot, he carries it over to the over and pops it in. To tease her, he wiggles his behind a little bit.

Closing the stove door, he goes back over to Morgan. "It should be done in about a half hour," he said. "Shall we pour some wine and talk about Mr. Mysak's papers? I've learned some tantalizing things."

The more he moves the angrier she gets. He keeps acting like nothing is wrong, preparing the food. His stupid dance; she really resists chucking something at his head. How dare he ignore what he has done to her tonight? How dare he inter fear with her plans!

"You know Gavin..."

She shuts up when he mentions Mysak's papers. His time machine project is something he has been trying to get information on. She breaths through her nose, her mind reeling. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. Morgan usually isn't one to use physical acts to assert how she feels but she cannot help herself. His indifference is driving her mad.

Gavin raises an eyebrow. "Hmmm," asked the man as he uncorks the wine. He pours two goblets of the drink and hands her one. "Why yes, I do know a lot." He winked at her. Gavin was having his fun. He knew it would annoy her if he said it, but the detective could not resist.

She steps up to him, smacking him on the face. She then proceeds to grab his shirt and kiss him in the most soul wrenching way. When she pulls back she growls at him.

A little moan of pleasure escapes his lips. His hand wraps around her waist as he pulls her close. His fivers curl around the shirt she wore. As she released him and he let go of the shirt, he felt breathless. "Wow," whispered Gavin.

"Two things are going to happen quickly Gavin Sparrow. One, you are going to apologize for how you treated me tonight and explain why the hell, that Boy Scout ended up back at his house and you in toe. Two, you are going to tell me everything you know about Mysak. If none of those things happen I will make you pay Gavin...not having sex with me will be the least of your worries."

Her hand releases him as it runs down his chest and plays with the button of his trousers. She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, biting her lip, and pulling at the button to release him, playing with his drawers.

"What a shame it would be if I never let you touch me again...don't you think Gavin?" Her eyes sparkle, he will be hers again.

"I'm not worried. You couldn't stay away if you tried," Gavin said. He grinned at her as he went to make salad.

"Daffodil, I was doing my job. You can't fault me for that, can you? We wouldn't want Bradley suspecting something is up. I do work with him from time to time after all," said Gavin. He scratched his chin. "Well, I was there under Brad's orders. He had called me up while I was walking home. He wanted to check on his roommate, even though he too was headed back to his place. The kid's a mess. I don't have a clue what Brad'll do with him."

Gavin sighed. "Promise me you won't get madder," he said. The man took both of her hands in his - for security. "Mr. Mysak before he died put a password on the files. Every month they change, even if you have them open. They are random phrases. However, I did read a little of it. Apparently, Mr. Mysak didn't think he was from this time and that's why he was so focused on time travel. He did make a time machine. I saw the drawing of it. It appears he put the mechanism in a sword stuck in a stone. I didn't get any further in the reading. The file's password changed and the document closed. I will try some more to get into it."

She feels surprisingly satisfied by his answers. He did have a point about Bradley's house. It just irked her. She is not completely convinced, but it will do for now. Besides, slapping him really gave her head rush. Finally being able to do violence gave Morgan tingly feelings down to her toes. She takes the wine to her lips, the deep Merlot feels like sin running down her throat, she even finds it in herself to moan...a little too loudly.

She observes him as he puts together the salad. There is something delectable about a man preparing food and waiting on you hand and foot. She allows his words to run over her. She knew it was a good idea to eliminate Mysak. She just didn't realize his research had gotten so far. The files could prove troublesome and if their memories started coming back. Morgan shivers at the thought. Right now everyone must stay in the dark; there is a bigger picture here.

She looks over at Gavin, humming away as he prepares their meal. This all feels so domestic. She has the urge to puke. She pours herself another glass, dipping the sweet liquid to her lips. She watches him again, and imagines it not being like this. She pictures him being Cenred, them sitting in his castle, plotting and scheming. Gavin would never act in such a way. He's too much of a cowboy. If he got his memories back - he was one of Arthur's knights, but she is still not sure what kind of relationship they held.

She feels it again, emotion. She pushes herself onto the island, her mind running through the conclusion to this long tale, hopefully it will involve Morgana and I on the throne...

"If you need anything to help with the files just let me know Gavin. I'll have my men do some digging and hopefully there is more a pattern to his phrases. No one is completely random, even scatter plots have a pattern. We just have to see if their close or far away, we could always try for a regression as well. Also, if you find out anything about Marty's bike tell me. His mother wants it returned and I do not wish to disappoint...you know how much I hate failure."

She watches him work. His dig at her willpower is received with an eye roll. She can feel her stomach growl. She looks down at the wine, debating when she should exactly seduce her favorite pet. He did make up for his disobedience by giving her the Mysak information. He did seem to enjoy it when she kissed him.

She stands behind him and runs her hand up his back as he fusses with the lettuce. She grabs at his idiotic pony tail and pulls his hair out. She likes it down better, anyway. She moves her hand down his arm to pull at his sleeve so she can kiss him softly on the neck. Her voice is low and husky when she speaks.

"Thank you for dinner Gavin."

His cheek was tingling a little where she had slapped him. But the pain wasn't bad. He had had a lot worse. Nicking himself shaving hurt worse if was being honest with himself. He sips on his own glass of wine. "Good choice," he remarks. "It will go perfectly with the lasagna."

He watches as Morgan hops onto the counter as he crushes some pecans, shreds a carrot, and dices black grapes. Satisfied, he scatters them onto the Romaine lettuce and spinach. Squeezing lemon into a bowl, he adds a little salt, pepper, and olive oil and pours it over the salad.

Gavin shook his head. "It wouldn't be wise," replied the man. "I don't want any more people involved then there has to be, you see. It will arouse suspicions and I'm sure you're not looking for that.

"There seems to be a medieval theme to the codes. The few I've uncovered were, 'Two Sides of the same coin', 'dragon' and 'lady of the lake'," he explained. Gavin laughed and shook his head. "I wish I knew something about that one. It would help me with my own cases. There's nothing. Brad's partner wasn't talking, not even to your sister…who says hello by the way. But, we'll find out the information. Don't worry."

As she pulled his hair loose and then kissed him he felt quite pleased. "Any time. I love to cook," Gavin said. "But, next time let's leave the slapping for later."

He moved around her and placed the bowl of salad on the table. Then, the buzzer went off and he pulled the lasagna out. "Let's eat," he said.

She accepted what he said; he had a point about people being involved, though that never concerned Morgan. People were so expendable. She listens to the words he says, and her back straightens. She has heard these words, of course...hmm...

"Well try 'darkness to your light', 'hatred to your love', 'once and future king'. I know it's not much, but it might be useful."

"I've tried the last one several times, no luck with it yet. I'll try the others though," he replied. "I've never seen a system like the one Mr. Mysak used. It's quite sophisticated. I think the password change is on a timer," Gavin explained as he took a bite of salad.

Morgan breathed through her nose at the mention of Ana. She will have to have a talk with her sister later about decorum around her pets...especially one as talkative as Gavin.

"Oh did she? You saw her with that beat up cop? I didn't realize she frequented hospitals. Though she seems to be finding herself in them more and more as the days go on."

"Indeed, she did. She also claimed her name was Katie Summers and she was a lawyer. She even asked for me to sign a privacy clause, which I explained that I couldn't because I was there for work. Something seemed weird, but I didn't say a word to her."

She chuckles, her sister is quite clever. "She is really something. You should stay out of her way Gavin, my sister...she makes me look like a friendly puppy."

She sits with the salad in front of her, eating with the grace and elegance she has as a woman of nobility. Her back is straight as she sits on the high stool, her legs crossed under her. She finds herself looking outside frequently. Rain has started to fall. She folds her hands in front of her and leans on her palms, admiring the droplets wistfully. She loves rain, storms, and the power behind them. Even on a childish note she loves to run around as the droplets soak her cloths. She pokes at her salad more and eats the delicious lasagna. Her face is impassive as she eats, but her mind reels. The food is delicious, which surprises Morgan. Her taste-buds are of a five star restaurant. Maybe it has something to do with this meal being prepared with love that's the change - how ridiculous.

"I can cook more than lasagna...soufflés, quiche, baked Alaska. I'm sure you get hungry more than once in a while. I know I do. Besides, I perform better on a full stomach," he said. Gavin gave her a goofy grin then.

His mindless chatter almost always drove Morgan up a wall, but it doesn't feel that way tonight. He's making dangerous suggestions...and she knows she should reprimand him and inform him that this is purely physical and informational...but she just can't. She hums in response to his question about his cooking. She can't tell him she actually enjoyed it.

She is polite as she enjoys the momentary lapse from her evil plans. Usually she is so focused on destroying someone that she forgets to take these moments and just enjoy the simple pleasures of living. She drinks her wine. Her gaze more focused on the rain hitting the windows than the man sitting near her. She even bites her lip a few times, her head tilted, her eyes soft. For the first time in a long time she feels like just a woman, having dinner with a man, instead of the mighty priestess she is.

A gnawing feeling makes its way into her stomach. His comment about 'anytime' makes her think she should remedy this. Gavin can't start believing that their relationship is going to take some domestic overtones. She does not have time for such things, and with Gavin? What? She looks at him as the thought crosses her mind, observing him eat the tasty pasta. If she were a different woman and he a different man would this be more than what it is?

Gavin noted that Morgan stuff demeanor. "You can relax, Daffodil. You're safe here, you know," he said. "Oh, how do you like the meal...and the rain?"

Maybe it's her full stomach or the wine making her head light that allows this rare moment of intimacy between them. Maybe it's the calming sound of rain hitting the windows.

"I love sushi."

She looks at him with only her eyes, low and alluring. She tilts her head, wondering how well he would catch the rare comment into her head. She truly does love Japanese food. Ana and she gets it all the time. The rain sounds like wind chimes in her ear, she turns towards him - that silly grin is on his face. She bites her lip and looks at him from under her long lashes.

She leans forward and kisses him ever so softly on the mouth, it only lasts a moment but for some reason she can feel her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She can taste the pasta on his lips. She pulls from him fully afterwards, grabbing her wine and walking over to the window, her hips moving gracefully from side to side. She leans forward a bit, the shirt riding high on her thighs. She brings the wine to her lips, sipping the delicious liquid, her calves rubbing against one another. She should not feel so relaxed in his apartment, eating his food, and wearing his shirt...she suddenly feels like she belongs to him. She grips her glass tighter.


	24. Chapter 23: A Mess

He hears his name called. Marty parts his lips to answer, but no sound comes out. Instead, he just presses his lips together as he waits for the door to open. Sure enough, Bradley opens it and then enters the room.

The man had watches as Bradley picked up the used needle. "I don't have AIDS," he assures the blond-haired man. He turns his gaze away as he wraps his arms tighter around his shoulders and torso. Marty rocks – harder and harder. He stamps his feet and squirms helplessly. It's all involuntary. He just has to move. It feels like his innards are trying to escape from their casing.

Marty had looked up and at Ana and frowns. His lips are pressed into a tight line. He was apprehensive and very wary of the woman. How would she know what to do for this? Martin wonders as he glances at the shower. He shivers. Standing up and then getting into a shower seemed impossible. The drugged man wasn't sure he could even walk on his own and he didn't think he could stay on his feet long enough to be under the water.

As she left this house, his eyes track her every movement, but when the woman was gone, he looked down at his lap. Marty's stomach cramps. As he screams out, he leans forward and squeezes his eyes tightly closed.

When Bradley rests a hand on his shoulder, he opens his eyes. The pupils are tiny pinpricks and the blue orbs were glazed over, but there was fear and disgust behind the drugged haze. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I warned you. I couldn't do anymore. I couldn't. I'm sorry. I'm a failure."

He hangs his head. "I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you. I don't know how, but I will. Seventy quid is a lot," Marty rambles. "I hate myself. I hate myself! I've done it three times in the last hour and a half."

Marty reveals his arm to Bradley. There are many old scars, but there are three fresh ones. "See?" he whispered.

Bradley nodded his head towards Gavin, letting the other man know he had heard him. He glanced back at Marty when Marty started to talk in earnest, and he held his breath when Marty showed him the injection sites on his arms.

He reaches into his pocket. His hands are shaking and sweaty. "Here's the other half," Marty whispered as he put the baggie in Brad's hand. "The other syringes are on my bed. Get rid of it. I don't want it anymore."

Bradley was at odds, not knowing what to do. He knew that Ana had been right in at least that one thing she said; cold shower and water. From just looking at Marty, Bradley doubted he was even capable of taking a shower of any kind and to be quite honest Bradley never pictured himself bathing anyone else; least ways not Marty. That was just a little disturbing to think about!

He remained in the kneeling position for perhaps a little longer than necessary before he finally made up his mind. This was only going to be a onetime thing, he promised himself. He just hoped no one from the force found out. How embarrassing that would be!

Standing up Bradley went to the open restroom door and shut it. Next he went to the bathtub and drew back the tan curtain. Reaching in he turned the hot and cold knobs on, watching as the water flowed out of the tap. He stuck two fingers under the flowing water, adjusting the temperature until it was cool, not blistering cold, but cool.

"I can't believe I'm doing this..." he mouthed to himself. He didn't speak it, he just mouthed the words before flipping the middle knob which caused the water to start coming out of the shower head.

Turning back to face Marty, Bradley gently yet firmly placed his hands under Marty's arms and started to pick him up like one would a small child. He just hoped Marty wouldn't start struggling with him on this. He told himself he'd deal with the drugs in Marty's room as well as the stolen money later. Right now he had to look after Marty.

"I'm a mess," he whispered. His voice was sad. His eyes were at half-mast. "I'm weak. I'm useless. I can't do anything right. I can't even stay clean more than a couple months. Most of the times, if I try…I fail within the day."

Martin sighed and blinked. Mixing with the involuntary tears were real ones – one of bitterness, ones of sadness, ones of fear, and ones of dejection. He shakes his head. "I don't think I can do much more of this," Marty admitted. "I don't think I want to."

He grew quiet as Bradley closed the door and then fiddled with the water. The dark-haired man noticed the sling and frowned a little. He was concerned, but didn't ask about it. When Bradley put his hands around him, Martin shoved him away. It was a gentle push. "No," the drugged man said. "Just let me rest a hand on your shoulder. I'll manage to get there. You shouldn't get that thing wet. I'll sit on the tub floor."

He didn't have that good a grip on Marty which was why when the younger man gently shoved him away, Bradley lost his grip on Marty's arms.

"I don't care about the sling. I get em' wet all the time. Sides...my shoulder doesn't even hurt." Bradley said. It was easy enough to keep the pain out of his eyes when he spoke that. Of course he was lying. His shoulder was killing him with pain, the painkillers had obviously worn off but he hadn't had time to take more.

Marty heaved himself off his seat. With shaking hands, he removed his shirt and pants, but he left his underwear on. In the semi-darkness, his pale skin almost glowed. The sweat clung to various scars. "I don't really know where I got them. No one seems to know," Marty said.

Stiffly, he went over to the tub and stepped in. Sinking down onto the floor of the shower, he leaned his head against the wall. "You better get them out of the house. If they're here, I'll use them," he warned the man. Marty closed his eyes.

Pictures flickered through his mind – they are wild and vibrant. They feel real and as if he could touch them. There is a dragon flying through the sky after he chops the chains holding it back. Then, there was a woman singing and everyone asleep. It showed him slapping Bradley, but he knew the man he saw was not named that. Marty saw Fay – Freya – as a giant black cat. He saw his father's death – not by gun, but by arrow. A blue orb fills his vision and then there is a goblet. More and more images came to mind. They came faster and faster. Somehow, Marty in his heroin-induced state, knew these were memories. But, he knew there was something missing from them. He wasn't quite sure what yet.

Marty opened his eyes. He finds himself gasping as he looks around. Marty rubs his arms. There are goose pimples all over his arms.


	25. Chapter 24: Remembering

Marty hadn't been worried about the sling. It was the injury the sling was protecting Martin didn't want to get wet. Something had happened – probably at the shootout – because there was a little bit of blood flecking Bradley's shirt.

He didn't say anything of this though. He just left Bradley in the dark about what was going on in his mind. It was probably better anyway. The police officer probably figured he was asleep or something. Martin knew that sleeping in a shower would be stupid. He could drown! He also knew that even if he wanted to nod off, he couldn't and wouldn't be able to. The withdrawals and the pain of them would keep him away for 2 or 3 days.

When he was shivering and his fingers looked like prunes, he reached up and turned the water off. He sighed as he attempted to crawl out of the tub. This was not easy. His legs didn't want to corporate; they shook and were in spasm. After a good 10 minutes of trying, he finally got out of the tub.

Stripping off the wet pants (underwear), he wrapped a large towel around his torso and opened the door. Moving slowly and with aching legs, arms, and joints, he managed to get into living room.

Right in the doorway, he stopped. His body went ridged. The last piece of the puzzle came into his mind. Him, as Merlin, with a bottle of hemlock and he poured it into a water flask, which he had handed to Ana (or Morgana as she was called there). He watched her drink it and then start to choke. He, himself right then began to chock and gasp. Horror and disgust was on his face. As the memory came back he saw himself holding her – he could feel her against him and he was aware of the hatred he had for himself. Then, the memory ended with her disappearing.

He blinked and found himself still gasping. Marty felt sick and ran to the kitchen. Bending over the sink, he threw up. Wiping his mouth, he saw Bradley and the pills all over the counter. "My fault," he whispered. "I pushed him…"

The young man ran to his room. He slipped into new underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt. Quietly crying, he pulled out a piece of paper and began to write. His handwriting was horrible.

Dear Bradley,

I'm sorry for being such a rubbish of a roommate. I knew I shouldn't have accepted. Look where it's got us now.

You don't know how sorry I am for the money. Sell the drawings. They should go for 15 to 20 quids each. That way you'll get it back.

Thank you for trying to help. But, I've got a go – I've got to disappear - before I mess up more things. Hey, think of it this way, you'll never have to arrest me again.

Marty

He folded the paper. On the outside of it, he wrote Bradley's name. Grabbing the folder of drawings, he carried them out to the living room. Sitting them on the coffee table, he left.

Marty ran down the streets. He didn't watch where he was going. He didn't care if he got hit or not. Marty just had to run, even though his head pounded, he was sweating buckets of liquid, and his legs hurt. Coming to a bridge, he stopped. With deliberate movements, he climbed over the railing. Moving with caution, he positioned himself over the water. Hanging on with his fingertips, he stared down at his toes as they curled around the edge, much as they did when he dove off the high dive. He took a breath and then another as he prepared to take the last dive of his life.

He didn't like taking painkillers anyway. They not only left him in a drowsy stupor for hours on end but they were also quite addicting. Even as he kind of saw Marty undress and get in the tub, he didn't see him because he was remembering a part of his adolescence that he wished he could forget.

Bradley saw himself at fourteen, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. He was sporting a split lip that was slightly swollen. There were tear tracks on his face as well. His black t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers were all soaked, as was the rest of his young body; the hair on the top of his head was even lying flat because it was drenched.

Bradley closed his eyes, not wanting to remember, but even as he told himself to forget it, his mind wouldn't let him. Bradley saw himself open up the medicine cabinet and take out a full bottle of painkillers that had his father's name on them. Bradley saw himself pop off the top of the cap, take out three pills and swallow them with ease.

Opening up his eyes Bradley found that he was breathing hard. A look of remorse, fear and sadness was on his face. He shook his head, trying to fight back the emotions he felt, but it wasn't working. Tearfully he glanced at Marty who seemed to be asleep in the tub. Good...at least he hadn't seen!

Making his decision Bradley turned, grabbed the needle from the sink as well as the others Marty had handed to him and then left the bathroom. He chucked the used needles in to the nearest trashcan before going to Marty's room.

It wasn't hard to find the rest of the drug paraphernalia and dispose of it. Once that was done though, Bradley collapsed on the floor tears streaking down his face.

*FLASHBACK*

Fourteen year old Bradley Pendleton, his fourteen year old friend Sara Daniels and Sara's five year old sister Megan were all walking home from school. They were in Colorado Springs, a place that Bradley didn't like too much because in winter it snowed constantly. His father had moved the family there so he could go to the best doctors in the area though he would never tell his son why he needed to go to the doctors.

It was winter time; Bradley was bundled up in a dark blue and black coat, Sara was wearing a light blue coat and Megan was wearing a light pink coat. They were almost to Sara's house, they had about a half mile to go. Suddenly Bradley got an idea. Instead of taking the long way they could just go across the frozen pond. That was the more direct route anyway!

Sara wasn't too sure of the plan but she followed Bradley's lead. When they reached the pond the surface was covered in snow. Sticking out a foot Bradley tested the water and sure enough it was frozen over. He stepped out first, followed by Sara and then little Megan.

They were about half way across the pond when it happened. Bradley, even though he was trying to be careful, slipped and crashed down on to the ice so hard that he busted his lip open. Sara knelt down to check him while Megan ran on ahead.

Even as Sara was helping Bradley to stand back up, little Megan let out a terrified scream as she fell through a patch of thin ice. Sara immediately let go of Bradley and ran after her sister. She reached the edge of the ice where Megan had fallen in but just as she did so, Sara too fell in when the ice under her feet gave way.

"SARA!" Bradley yelled. He made his way over to the hole where she had fallen through, but he stayed away from the edge. Taking off his coat so that he was in his t shirt, jeans and sneakers, Bradley dove in to the freezing cold water, already knowing that it was a dangerous move.

The water was dark, he couldn't see a thing! He dove down deeper but the visibility only got worse. Finally when his lungs started to burn did he head for the surface. He came in to contact with ice and for a moment he thought he wouldn't be able to get out, but his hands broke through the ice that had formed over the hole. Coughing, he carefully hauled himself out of the hole and on to the ice.

Getting away from the hole he stood up and ran home to tell his father, leaving his coat on the ice. After that things happened quickly. Police and Fire and Rescue were called out to the pond. After searching for only fifteen minutes they located the bodies of the girls trapped underneath the ice.

When Bradley learned they were dead he had gone to the bathroom and locked the door. He was still soaking wet from his plunge but he didn't care. He had killed two people; one of which he had loved. It was that reason that drove him to take the painkillers and for the next five years Bradley became addicted to the painkillers. After Bradley almost overdosed on the pain pills, his father got him in to a rehabilitation center. That had been the worst time in his life, having to give them up, but finally he did and he had been clean ever since.

*END FLASHBACK*

Bradley picked himself up off of Marty's bedroom floor. He took hold of the sling and ripped it off, his arm falling limply to his side as his shoulder cried out in pain. Going in to the kitchen, Bradley opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out a prescription painkiller that he had gotten the last time he had been hurt. The bottle and the pills inside were two years old; since Bradley had refused to take the pills then the bottle was still unopened.

Sniffling a little, Bradley wiped the tears away from his face with his good hand before opening up the bottle. He stared at the white pills inside, knowing what they could do to him if he took too many. He just wanted to forget though; forget the past and the pills was one way to do that.

With a shaky hand Bradley poured five of the four hundred pills on to the counter before recapping the bottle and putting it back up in to the cabinet. With his good hand he picked up the pills and held them, staring at them in earnest. Finally with his jaw trembling, he closed his eyes, opened his mouth and tossed the pills in, swallowing them with ease.

Knowing that the pills would hit him pretty fast, Bradley made his way over to the couch, laying down on it as a wave of dizziness swept over him; the pills were starting to take effect. He breathed once, twice. Shutting his eyes, Bradley rolled over on to his back, passing out completely moments later.

*DREAM SEQUENCE...*

"Arthur..."

Bradley moaned a little, grabbing a pillow he placed it over his head.

"Arthur!"

"Go away...!" he moaned in to the pillow.

"Arthur!"

Finally Bradley sat up, looking around for the voice that wouldn't let him sleep. As his eyes adjusted he realized something very important. He was in a place that didn't look familiar at all. He was in a big comfortable four poster bed that was covered in thick sheets and big comfortable pillows. Across the room was a wooden table and chair. On the table was what looked like old parchment and a quill?!

Scratching his head Bradley got out of the bed and it was only then when he looked down at himself he found that he was wearing a red jacket, black pants, a belt with some keys on it, and weather worn boots.

"What...the hell?" he muttered to himself, leaving the room.

He walked down the corridor and down two flights of stairs before finding himself standing before two large doors. On the other side of the closed doors he could hear many voices. Great, voices meant people and people could tell him what was going on.

Throwing the huge doors open, Bradley entered the room and stopped short, mouth hanging open when he saw what was across the room. No...no it couldn't be! He saw Ana sitting across the room only she looked...different! Beside her he saw a man who looked so much like his father only this man was wearing a crown. Eyes going to the other man, Bradley stilled completely, feeling his eyes grow as big as saucers. It was himself! Only he was wearing clothing fit for royalty! On his head was a golden crown and in his hands was a beautiful looking goblet.

"STOP! It's poisoned don't drink it!"

Bradley blinked. He knew that voice! Eyes going to the side entrance he watched someone run in to the room and grab the cup from his Doppelganger.

"Marty..." Bradley whispered, watching as Marty glared at the big and tall strange man in the center of the room.

"What?" The older man wearing the crown asked.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked.

Bradley looked confused. Merlin? His name wasn't Merlin it was Marty, but even as he mouthed the name Merlin, it felt right, natural, to say - more so than Marty.

"Bayard laced Arthur's goblet with poison!" Merlin declared.

"Oh...crap." Bradley muttered, watching everyone stand and draw their swords; most of which were aimed at the man in the middle of the room.

"This is an outrage!" Bayard said in an angry voice.

"Order your men to put down their swords. You are outnumbered." The King ordered.

"I will not allow this insult to go unchallenged!" Bayard declared.

"On what grounds to you base your accusations?" The king asked Merlin.

Bradley stood where he was, watching everything unfold; his eyes going to Arthur when the Prince moved over to Merlin.

"I'll handle this. Merlin, you idiot. Have we been at the slow gin again?" Arthur asked, trying to make light of the situation, but it was obvious Merlin wasn't having any of it.

"Unless you want to be strung up, you will tell me why you think it was poisoned." The King ordered Merlin.

"He was seen lacing it!" Merlin said.

"By whom?" the King asked.

"I can't say." Merlin replied.

Bradley watched the rest of the scene unfold. He watched Uther take the full goblet and look it over, while Bayard mumbled something. He was about to turn and walk out when he heard something that made his blood run cold.

"He'll drink it."

Bradley saw the King hold out the goblet towards Merlin, a slightly menacing look on his face.

"No...NO!" Bradley shouted, making his way over towards Merlin as the young man took the goblet.

"Don't drink it Merlin!" Bradley said in a pleading fashion but it was as if he wasn't even there because Merlin didn't look at him at all.

"But, if it is poisoned he'll die!"

Bradley looked up towards Arthur in shock.

"Then we'll know he was telling the truth," the King replied.

"And what if he lives?" Bayard asks.

"Then you have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will."

Bradley shook his head. He never knew his father could be such an ass!

"Uther please! He's just a boy he doesn't know what he's saying!" Gaius, the Court Physician said.

"Then you should have schooled him better," came the reply.

Shaking, Bradley reached out a hand to take the goblet from Merlin but his hand passed right through the cup as if it wasn't even there.

"Merlin apologize. This is a mistake, I'll drink it!" Arthur insisted, trying to take the cup from Merlin, but the young warlock wouldn't let the Prince take it.

"No, no, no, no, no. It's, it's alright," Merlin said.

"NO!" Bradley shouted, watching Merlin put the cup to his lips and drink down every last drop. His heart was pounding in fear as he studied Merlin's face for any sign that he was in distress. When the moment passed, Merlin gave a small smile to Arthur.

"It's fine!" he says.

"He's all yours," Uther says to Bayard.

Bradley knew it wasn't all fine though, because not five seconds later he saw Merlin grimace and put his hand to his throat as if he were choking.

"MERLIN!" Bradley yelled, trying to catch the younger man as he fell, but Merlin literally fell right through his arms and on to the floor.

"No!" Bradley said, collapsing on to the floor, staring at Merlin's limp body.

"You can't die on me!" he said in a panicked voice, watching Arthur pick the body up and leave the room, followed by Gaius, Ana and another woman.

*END DREAM SEQUENCE*

Lance had just gotten out of the hospital and the first thing he did was go see his partner because he hadn't seen him since the shooting. Having a key to Bradley's house, Lance simply unlocked the door and stepped on in.

Of all the things he expected to find, none of them were Bradley in the throes of a dream, dripping with sweat as he called out for someone named Merlin. Looking to the counter he saw a few pills spread out so he went over to the counter and picked one up, studying it.

Glancing up at the semi open cabinet door he saw a large bottle had toppled over on it's side. The lid was off, laying on the floor. Picking up the bottle Lance saw that the pills left in the bottle matched those on the counter.

Shaking his head he put the pills and the bottle down before going to the couch.

He saw Bradley covered in sweat, shaking his head back and forth as if he were having some sort of nightmare. "No! No! Why did you do it Merlin?! Why did you drink it?!" Bradley called out, still thrashing around.

Leaning over, Lance took a firm grip on his partner's shoulders and shook him hard. "Brad!" he called. All of a sudden Bradley gasped and quickly sat up, his hand going to his chest.

"Merlin..." he whispered."Where's Merlin?!"

"Who's Merlin?" Lance asked, spying a note on the table, as well as some drawings. Going over to it he saw that the note was addressed to Bradley, so he picked it up and handed it over to the other man.

"Marty...only...his name's not Marty...it's Merlin!" Bradley said. Lance shook his head, believing that Bradley was going half-crazy because of the pills in his system.

"Brad, buddy...you need to calm down. You may have overdosed yourself on painkillers. I need to get you to the hospital," Lance said.

Bradley stood up, shaking his head vigorously. "No!" he called, finally looking down at the note in his hand. He opened it up and read it before letting it fall to the floor. Breathing hard, Bradley ran outside shouting Merlin's name but there was no answer.

He picked a direction and took off running as if his life depended on it. He kept shouting Merlin's name over and over, hoping against hope that he would get a response. He tried not to think of the possibility that he would find Merlin dead. No...no...that...that couldn't happen.

He had to find Merlin...he would find him.


	26. Chapter 25: Revenge

She stops herself from running towards her car like a small girl. She sits in her expensive Mercedes, the leather giving her little comfort. She lights a cigarette as she drives, the nicotine feeling sharp and vicious as it roams down her throat. She is quiet as she drives; only allowing an open window and the sound of wind to wash over her. It's been a long day and she feels more lost than she usually is. She walks in to her home. Anubis, her only true friend, greets her. If her dog could talk, she wonders what he would even think of her.

She walks over to her shower and quickly washes herself. She does take a few extra moments to scrub at her skin, to wash away the feelings she has had. The vision of Marty on the floor she doesn't want him like this. She wants the old Merlin back - the strong confident man. She can destroy that man, that man is easily broken. But this one? What a terrible woman she would be to destroy such a pathetic soul. She finds herself scrubbing harder.

She walks out of the shower and only dresses in her undergarments. Her hair is slicked back from the water. A cigarette sits snugly between her blood red lips as she walks around her apartment, making her look dangerous. She opens up her cabinet and pours herself a scotch. She is normally a vodka kind of girl, but she needs something harder tonight. She finds herself finishing three of them in the course of twenty minutes.

She walks outside. Anubis probably has to go out. He is happy to run around her big back yard, barking at random rabbits and hunting squirrels. She lies on the cement of her patio, the fourth drink securely in her hands. She cannot cry tonight as she calls upon the cuts, as she listens to the stars. The pain is the worst she has ever felt but she doesn't even flinch. For a moment her mind swirls that it is over, that this task is done.

The stars surprise her. They whisper of her triumphs of her future. The cuts reach up to her sharp cheeks. They bleed tonight, the blood pooling around her creating a dreadful sight. She is lucky that her closest neighbors are over a mile away. She smokes. The blood dripping on her chin; it feels cold...like her soul. She wonders if she is just heartless, a cold calculating woman.

She finishes her final drink, she feels her blood pump faster and swirl inside of her. The magic inside of her pulsates begging to release. Her lip trembles. She closes her eyes and they become gold. And he's suddenly hovered over her with that stupid goofy grin on his face. She reaches up to him and swears she can touch him. Why is hatred so close to love? Are they one in the same emotion? She smoothes her hand over the doppelgangers cheek, the reality that this will never happen makes her bleed harder.

She breaths out the masking spell, her body as pristine as ever. The cigarette goes back and forth between her lips. She stands up, the disgusting red sticking to her now matted hair, she will need another shower. She looks down at the outline of her body, the red leaving the reminder of her despicable life. I should clean that up...

His words run over her. His hatred seeps into her bones. She should be elated, happy to have broken him in such a way...so why does she only feel pity? She finishes her drink. Anubis comes up next to her, sniffing at the blood.

"Anubis no!"

The strong black lab ducks his head. His spiked collar and choke collar are meant to offset his shy, loving personality. She looks to her dog. He reminds her of Marty. His ears down, the sad look in his eye as he's been scolded. She kneels down and rubs at his ears, cooing to him, telling him he's a good dog. He starts to wag his tail in approval. His nose comes close to give her sloppy kisses.

She stands. Her pet elated as he is careful to run around the red mess. Why can't all men be so easily controlled? You don't care about anyone. She does care, inhale. She just forgot how to show it, exhale. She looks up at the stars. They have shown her much - a bridge of some sorts. She should figure it out, but her mind is too tired to really spend time investigating tonight. It will be tomorrow's problem.

She walks over to the hose, cleaning off the cement and her feet. Then, in the most unladylike fashion, she tips her head over and runs the cold water over the scalp. The red mixes with the water. The diluted color looks strange to the mighty Ana. It creates an ugly stream as it pools at her perfect lawn.

She walks inside; her body is clean again as to not get any blood on her perfectly white carpet. Anubis jumps, begging for a cookie. "I've seen the same car at your company." She shakes her head. A million people have black cars. She wishes he would be more specific. "I love this jag Ana, and I will never get rid of it. The beautiful black color makes me look so deliciously intimidating." Her sister's words ring in her ears. Ana sighs.

She suspected Morgan might have something to do with Marty's father's death, but she would never accuse her sister of such things - especially killing him herself. She always finds others to do her dirty work. Her mind drifts back to Marty. His words so filled with disdain and disgust towards her. Even in her broken state he spewed venom. She never knew another's words could hurt her so. Only his words would hurt you in such a way.

She strips her undergarments; they are bloodied from her earlier activities. She throws them away. The pure white distorted by the harsh red. Her mind filters to Harriet, the woman expressing her happiness to keep Ana away from her son. Her facade is diminishing. Everyone is starting to see through her. Morgan is doing a better job of keeping up appearances than she is.

Ana walks in front of her mirror, naked, baring herself to the old Morgana, the naive woman. Her mind is made up, she will harden herself again. She will not allow someone like Marty get to her in the future. She tried tonight. She really wanted to level with him and at least show she is human. His blatant rejection shows where he stands, she must make her choice.

"I will destroy you Merlin. No matter what form you take. I will have my revenge."

The storm was raging outside. Anubis was barking at the drizzle. His voice was moving with the wind, harsh growls when the leaves blew, quiet yips when you could only hear the pitter patter of the droplets on her beautiful windows. Ana had finished her fifth scotch. She was finally starting to feel something. She watches the lightning strike, the light only lasted a second, but it was long enough. The vision was clear. The stars were trying to tell her something important.

Ana looks down at Anubis. The dog wags his mighty tail. His tongue hangs out. Her puppy sure does love rain. She walks over to her bedroom and fixes her hair. Many would see the act as tedious considering the storm she was about to walk into, but Ana always had to look her best. She spent a moment curling her hair, putting harsh dark eye make-up and her blood red lipstick adorns her seductive mouth.

She changes into fashionable straight leg jeans, a beautiful white beater and a black leather jacket thrown over, her deep emerald jewelry adding a dash of color. She slips into her ankle boots and then grabs for Anubis's leash. He barks in approval as he sits before her, his tail wagging. The storm may rage but she has a mission.

"Anubis, want to go for a walk?"

The dog barks and jumps on Ana, she catches him and gives him a kiss before settling his mighty paws down. She grabs her umbrella. The storm has simmered down to a drizzle as she walks her mighty animal. He stops in certain places to sniff, holding her up, but not enough to irritate. She smokes as she walks towards the bridge. The vision the lightening had provided her. The water splashes as she moves over puddles. Her perfect locks bouncing.


	27. Chapter 26: Off the Deep End

She comes to the bridge, and it is there she sees it. Marty is over the ledge. Bradley yells at him. She is too far away and the wind is too strong for her to hear them. It looks like Marty is going to jump. Now wouldn't that be something. She pulls out her cigarettes and lights one up, Anubis sees this as a signal to sit at her heels. She waits a moment before she makes herself know.

Lance had followed after Bradley, but when Bradley had come to the bridge he knew enough to stay back, especially when it became clear that Bradley had found and was talking to Marty...no...Merlin. Leaning up against a nearby building, Lance watched. If Bradley did something stupid like try to jump himself, Lance had every intention of pulling his partner back because that's what friends do.

As he watched, he became aware of another person watching what was going on at the bridge. Glancing over he saw who it was; Katie...only...that couldn't be her name. She had an umbrella, a dog leash attached to a dog, and a cigarette in her hands.

Not caring about the rain, Lance approached her. He was wearing a brown leather jacket that was already soaked anyway. What's more water to it now? "Enjoying the view are we?" he asked sarcastically when he was close enough to Ana that she could hear him.'

Ana watched as Lance approaches her. Anubis started to growl a big. He stood up his back arched and his teeth shown. Her dog is her protector above all else and he can tell his master does not like this man. She reaches down to rub his ears, cooing to him, telling him to back off. He slowly lowers himself to sit by her heel again, between her and Lance. She pets his ears and he looks back at her with his silly tongue hanging out of his mouth, she leans down and he gives her a generous kiss as she stands back up.

She finishes her cigarette and tosses it into the grass, the drizzle putting it out. She eyes Lance as he moves to stand next to her but her gaze falls back to the boys on the bridge. They are saying something. Normally Ana makes it her business to know, but today she feels the need to just observe actions instead of words. Marty is clearly distraught. Maybe he should lay off the drugs.

She can tell Lance is agitated. Maybe his brain has finally pieced it together. She almost hopes so. It would make the night just that more fun.

"I've never seen two men so broken in my life." Her eyes are dark. She can't help the smirk that creeps its way upon her face.

As Marty clung to the stone guard railing, cars drove past him. The drivers were apparently unaware of him or just didn't care. No one stopped. No one glanced in his direction. 'I don't blame them,' Martin thought, even though he knew no one else realized what he had done.

The vehicles that sped by splashed dirty, mucky water onto his burning body. The wind from the momentum of the automobiles blew sand and dust all over him. Because of the rain, the gunk stuck to his body. With the gusts, his hair was mussed up and his shirt was ruffled.

Because of the rain, he fingers and toes kept slipping. He tightened his finger's grip until his knuckles turned white and his toes popped. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward until his arms were stretched until they shook. His chest arched outwards and he could feel the mist of the water below him on his cheeks.

As a car passed, he heard music. Marty figured the window was open because the words were so clear. With a cracked voice he sang along with the cover of Radiohead's 'Creep'.

"I don't care if it hurts,

I wanna have control,

I want a perfect body,

I want a perfect soul…"

Marty didn't have those things. He never would have those things. But, he could have control over his life or his death. He would.

Hearing the name 'Merlin', he froze on the spot. The druggie looked over his shoulder and saw Bradley/Arthur heading straight towards him. Cursing under his breath, he dropped down so that he was hiding by a support beam. He was crouched still - his toes were hanging over the edge – and now he held onto the base of the bridge. On either side of his feet, his hands were positioned. His fingers dug into the stone. For a brief moment, as he hoped Bradley/Arthur didn't see him, he felt like the many drawings of Spiderman he'd seen.

"MERLIN!" Bradley shouted over and over as he ran. He had run for so long that his chest was burning and his heart felt like it was going to pop out of his chest but he continued on. Just up ahead was the cross town bridge; one of the more widely used bridges around. Bradley squinted, thinking he saw something on the edge, but when he got closer whatever it was, was gone. For a moment Bradley had hoped it had been Merlin but he shook his head when he realized his still drug induced mind must have been playing tricks on him.

He leaned against the guard rail of the bridge, gritting his teeth and lowering his head as he tried to keep the tears away. He didn't need this, not now but despite his best efforts he couldn't hold back the flood gates of his tears for long.

"It's happening all over again..." he choked out. "I killed them...first Sara and Megan...now Merlin. What kind of a monster am I?"

He watched the tears roll down and off his face to disappear in to the waters below. It was raining outside and had been for a little while. Bradley was soaked, just like he had been when he was fourteen, but he didn't care in the least.

Somewhere in his drug crazed mind Bradley knew, he just knew that Merlin was dead. He had failed to save him as he had failed to save his friends.

"I'm sorry Merlin...for everything I put you through. I'm sorry that you thought that you had no way out and...and I'm sorry for lying to you. If you were here right now, I'd tell you the truth...in a heartbeat. But you're not. You are probably lying dead somewhere...and it's because of me. It's my fault." Bradley said. He hung his head in shame and closed his eyes, partly to try and hide the fact that he was crying and partly to try and keep the rain out of his eyes. He never knew that as he was speaking, Merlin was even closer than he could have imagined.

Above the rain, Marty heard his name screamed and the young man, he winced. It reminded him of every time Arthur was furious with him – every time he had been late, too loud, or overly clumsy. He hated the sounded and it made him hunker down even lower as well as press his thin frame against the cold stone and metal.

His jaw quivered as his brow furrowed so that he was squinting into the night. As Bradley spoke, Marty found himself getting angry. What was he talking about anyway? Slowly, he rose so that his head was above the railing. His fingers grazed the stone. They made nicks in his skin. Mixing with the coldness of the rain was warmth. Marty was bleeding. He didn't care.

"Leave me alone!" he screamed as he carefully pivoted. "Leave me alone. Let me die in peace. Let me jump! Just let me jump."

He gripped the wire that went up to the overhead beam. "I don't want to live anymore! I can't do this. I can't! I can't do it anymore. I'm the liar – not you. I'm nothing. I'm worthless. I'm a monster," Marty sobbed. "I tried to kill someone, Arthur! In a past life, I tried to kill a woman with poison. It was Morgana. I had no choice though. There was a sleeping spell and it stemmed from her. But, I did it because death was the only way to break it. I'm a monster. I was born a monster and I'll die one."

"And you know, I've live a lot longer than I should've. I've got magic. I was born with it. I'm a monster," Marty gasped.

Bradley jumped and froze at the same time when he heard the voice. It couldn't be! ... Could it?

Raising his eyes the only word that came to his lips was, "Merlin," and even that was just above a whisper.

He stood there watching Merlin climb, and he listened to him speak about what he had done. The expression on Bradley's face was hard to pin down but he did look as if someone had physically slapped the heck out of his face.

Morgana - Bradley's mind flicked back to what he had seen. A beautiful young woman seated on a chair, a smile on her face. That same woman who looked so scared - the only one awake inside the Castle when everyone else was sleeping, including his father.

"Merlin..." Bradley whispered. He thought he had said the name louder but when he realized he didn't, he spoke up a little louder so Merlin could hear him. It wasn't a shout though because Bradley saw where that had gotten him.

"Merlin, you are not nothing, you are not worthless! Morgana...she would have destroyed Camelot and everything it stands for. I know it may not feel like it. Killing is never a pleasant or rewarding experience, but Merlin...you saved many lives that day, including mine and that of my father." As Bradley spoke he could feel himself becoming more sure of his words and more sure of who he himself was.

"I know what my father thinks of magic, but Merlin I wouldn't have let that happen. Not to you! You don't know…you don't know the effect you've had on everyone's lives in Camelot. You don't know what you mean to everyone there...what..." he paused, "what you mean to me. In the beginning you were only a servant, but you became my friend...my only real friend, my best friend. You saved my life on many occasions and for that I owe you a great debt that can never be repaid. Please Merlin, don't do this! Don't do it because of what happened to Morgana."

Bradley stopped speaking for a moment, suddenly coming to a decision. "If you jump, I'm going to jump in there after you and if that means we both die, then so be it," Bradley said.

Marty clung to the wire. His fingers wrapped around the metal and squeezed just as a python grasped its prey. With the rain and the natural coldness of the supports, the young man found his hand was getting a bit cold and numb. The wetness made it hard to hold on, as well. His fingers kept slipping down and so, he enfolded his fingers about the gray threads even tighter.

With the passing cars, there was enough light to see by. He could see the stark features of Bradley/Arthur's face as well as the raindrops falling from his blonde-hair, the tip of his nose, and chin. Because of the manmade light, the driblets were turned orangey-red. It reminded him of smoldering embers falling or globs of lava (which he had seen on a documentary once upon a time), which in turn made him think of the people who had been burned at the steak just because of magic. It made him shiver.

He turned his face away from Bradley. He didn't want to look into the young man's eyes. He saw the hurt, the betrayal, and the shock in the other person's eyes. He also thought there might be a bit of anger in there as well. Marty couldn't stand to see the expressions.

"I am," Marty replied. He kept his eyes on the water. "I am nothing, but a failure – in this life and the last. Well, maybe I am something…I'm weak. I'm an idiot. I'm…I'm a clumsy fool. Even you've said it! Gaius too!"

The man leaned his head back as remorse washed over him. He closed his eyes as the rain pelted his face. "I had a choice with Morgana! I could've helped her. I could've let her know she wasn't alone. If I had she never would've sided with Morgause. You know, I was who sent her to the druids. Me! And now they are dead because of me," Martin interjected. His voice shook as he spoke. "I betrayed my friend!"

"And you know…Morgana's not the first person who I hurt or killed. No. Lady Helen, Aufric, Sophia, Cedric…." The man muttered as he listed people who had died directly because of him. "Plus, when you were bit by the Questing Beast, I defeated Nimueh, but nearly lost my mother and Gaius before then. Gwen nearly died because of what I did…all because I was trying to help. I wanted to save her father and look where it got her."

Marty rocked his head back and forth. "You couldn't have stopped your father. I would have been killed. I would've taken that death as long as I had known I'd made a difference and you would've been the best King Albion ever had or would have."

"You don't know how many times I've saved your life. And you know…it was all done with my magic. You can repay it by letting me go. I can't do this anymore Arthur. I can't. I've been your protector for five years now and I'm tired. I'm tired of destiny and losing everyone I care about. You know, I really was in love. Her name was Freya. She died. She was killed. I lost my best friend, who really didn't make that dust storm. And I really did lose my father. I was there – you too. It was Balinor. And wasn't you who defeated the dragon. No one did. I banished it because I am…I was…the last Dragonlord," Marty said.

Marty said, "Don't. Please. Don't. I'm tired. I can't. I won't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know if I can do it," he said. Marty let go of the wire and turned. He glanced down at the water. Did he really want to die? He wasn't sure.

Marty looked again at Bradley. He felt very unstable out here. Unsure what his next move would be, it was made for him. A car drove by - fast. The current of water hit him. Screaming, he fell.


	28. Chapter 27: Free Falling

It was hard to tell because of the rain but Arthur was quite literally sobbing. Thankfully the rain was mixing with his tears, washing them away. The younger man was deeply hurting, that was plain to see but death wasn't the answer. Death could never be the answer.

Arthur knew that Merlin wanted to punish himself; wanted to give up. But in punishing himself he was also punishing everyone else. They would have to live with the guilt if Merlin died. More importantly he would have to live with the guilt if Merlin died.

"Merlin you have a generous heart. You care about people and you want to help them. That is your greatest gift. Every time I called you a fool it was in gest. People say things they don't mean; like all of the times you called me a clot pole," Arthur said.

He paused, gripping the railing tightly, thinking that Merlin was actually going to jump. When the younger man didn't, Arthur pressed on. "You have done so many things for so many people, and it seems all you have had is one tragedy after another as thanks for your efforts. I know you are tired and I know you need to rest but this isn't the way to go Merlin."

"You kept saying I would be a great King but if that means losing you...I don't want it. No kingdom is worth losing you over," Arthur said. He watched Merlin closely, a little hope sparkling in his eyes when he saw Merlin turn.

All of a sudden a car came whizzing by going faster than it should. The resulting torrent of rainwater sloshed out and, as if in slow motion, Arthur watched it hit Merlin and then he watched Merlin fall; screaming.

"MERLIN!" Arthur yelled, leaning over as far as he could, but he only grasped empty air.

Biting his lip he climbed over the railing and without a second thought jumped off the bridge after his friend. He wasn't willing or ready to let Merlin go that easily; not like that...not like that.

Even as he jumped, Arthur thought he heard Lance yelling his name, but he didn't care. All he cared about was saving Merlin.

When Lance saw Merlin fall, he ran up to the bridge as fast as he could, already knowing that Bradley was going to try to jump in after the younger man. He arrived at the bridge too late and could only yell his partner's name as Bradley took the plunge, following after Merlin.

"Damn it!" Lance muttered under his breath. He didn't know what to do. Call for an ambulance obviously but if he took out his cellphone it would have been ruined in the rain before he could make the call. Lance was angry and felt the need to lash out at something. Glancing behind him he fixed Ana with an angry stare. "This is all your fault!" he yelled at her.

The puddles splash as she walks through them, Anubis at her heels. She watches as Lance speeds by her to scream over the ledge. She approaches slowly, a new cigarette secured between her lips. She walks next to him over the ledge, his accusation should make her falter more, but it just rolls off of her like the rain on her umbrella.

She sends him a dark glace, her eyes sharp. Anubis knows something is wrong. He starts to bark at the water and then at Lance. His teeth bared and he starts to growl. She doesn't reprimand him. she just smirks in disdain - her eyes dark.

"I didn't do anything Lancelot, I just simply showed up."

She doesn't care that she used his medieval name. It wasn't a slip up, she just doesn't care anymore. She looks over the ledge, them dropping is like the sweetest chocolate she has ever sunk her teeth into. She breathes heavily; her pupils dilated...she feels...aroused.

She drops her umbrella, and stands upon the ledge. Her heels giving her balance as she watches them fall. Anubis jumps up to look over. The rain soaks her long locks as she tilts her head to the side. Her smile maks her look crazy, psychotic. She starts to laugh suddenly.

"Don't you see it's over? Don't you see my triumph!" She laughs harder as the lightning flashes, her cloths clinging to her body. It is the most liberating moment of her life.

"All I see is two people falling off a bridge and besides it's not over yet. They could still survive; it's not like they would be smashing in to the ground, Morgana. I thought a smart woman like yourself would know that," Lance said in a slightly sarcastic manner.

He took a good look at her, noticing her fast breathing and her dilated eyes, though he didn't know the cause of it. It was then that he noticed how Morgana's wet clothes seemed to cling to her body. Quickly he shut his eyes and gave his head a quick shake. Did he really just think that she was cute? After everything that she had done? Okay, there was something really wrong with that picture!

Marty stopped screaming. It was no use anyway. No one could save him now. Relief flickered over his face. There would soon be no destiny, no protection, nothing, but blessed` rest and relief. There would be nothing. Maybe destiny was choosing my fate instead of letting me choose. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be, thought the man. Maybe this is the last thing destiny pushes me into doing.

It actually made sense. He'd been on the brink of death more times than he could count, but each time Merlin had survived. Something other than Gaius's skills had spared his life and Merlin remembered being told he'd been saved for a reason; he wouldn't be here if there were things left to do. Everything must have been finished. The stars must have aligned. All must be set for now he was leaving this world.

The fall seemed to be taking a long time. It actually seemed like time was irrelevant. For the first time in a long while, his mind was calm; he felt calm. It allowed him to think about the last things Bradley/Arthur had said. It allowed him to use his magic one more time. In the darkness, his eyes flash gold and a blue, glowing orb hovers over him.

I knew it was all in jest, but sometimes words still hurt, Merlin mused as if he were replying to him with his voice. And then it's crushing…like when you killed Freya or after my father's death. 'No man's worth your tears' you said. By the gods, it hurt.

Marty closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'It is the way to go. It's the way the world seems to want me to. I wouldn't have been pushed by the street water if it wasn't my destiny,' thought the falling man.

'A great King, yes. You will be the greatest Albion has ever seen. Besides, I am just one person…one man. We are all controlled by destiny anyway. You will be a great King whether you want to be or not. I just had to push you a little,' Merlin thought as his body hit the water. As he did, he heard a crunch and felt pain in his side – the impact had broken a rib or two. It ado caused the blue orb to blink out.

It hurt. It was one of the worst pains ever, although nothing compared to his head hitting the cement. He screamed and the murky water filled his lungs. For a second his eyes open and then after taking another feral scream they closed again and he was still.

Arthur's heart was pounding rapidly. Part of this was because he was in free-fall and part of it was because he was so worried about Merlin. What if Merlin hit the water wrong and actually managed to snap his neck? If that had happened Arthur knew he would never forgive himself.

'No Merlin,' he told himself, 'You can't die, not yet. You have a lot of people that need your help and your guidance...like I do...'

Just up ahead he saw Merlin hit the water and disappear under it. He closed his eyes, forcing the tears to remain where they were.

Now was not the time to become a sobbing idiot, now was the time to become whom he was born to be. His father and Merlin said he would become a great King, well what if this was the first step?

Reopening his eyes, Arthur forced himself to relax. He tilted up until he was falling feet first. He rammed his legs together and wrapped both arms across his chest.

Then he hit. Hitting the water; at least to him was just like being in an MVC (motor vehicle collision) on the highway going 70 miles per hour. He felt his already injured shoulder snap backwards.

"AAAAARRHHHHHH!" He screamed in pain. Water rushed in to his mouth but he didn't swallow it.

Grabbing on to his bad shoulder with his good one, he happened to take one glance at it and what he saw almost caused him to pass out right then and there. He saw one of his own bones sticking up out of the skin; blood pooling out of the wound in question. The pain was unimaginable and yet Arthur didn't head for the surface.

The water was murky, almost too murky to see. But, he wouldn't give up without at least trying to find his friend. Thankfully his body naturally sank like a stone, or else he would have had a hard time trying to dive with a broken arm and shoulder.

It seemed like forever until he found what he was searching for; a body looking so still and so peaceful. Arthur's lungs were burning, begging him to make for the surface but he ignored it. Grabbing on to Merlin's left arm, Bradley forced himself to use his other arm to lightly grasp the back of Merlin's shirt. It hurt immensely, but there was no way he could lift the younger man with just one arm. Kicking off from the ground, Arthur then started to make for the surface, Merlin's limp body in tow.

It seemed to take forever and more than once he thought about just stopping and giving up but finally his head broke the surface of the water. He took in a huge gulp of air as he started to float on his back. This was the only way he could swim to shore and make sure Merlin's head stayed above the water.

He kicked and kicked and kicked but finally managed to reach the shore. At the bank there were several men taking down what appeared to be a camp site. At that moment Arthur didn't care, all he cared about was Merlin, so he called for help. At first the men ignored him but after repeated calls the men dropped what they were doing, strode over to the bank and hauled not only Merlin but Arthur onto the wet grass.

A quick check revealed that Merlin wasn't breathing. This worried Arthur greatly. "Either of you know CPR?" Arthur asked.

The two men looked at each other before one of them knelt down and started the chest compressions.

When he reached thirty compressions Arthur tilted Merlin's head back, pinched his nose closed, leaned down and gave the younger man two breaths of air.

"Come on Merlin!" Arthur begged as the stranger continued his chest compressions.


	29. Chapter 28: Rock Bottom

Last night had been incredible. The food had been better than ever. The wine was great. Morgan even seemed to have enjoyed herself as well as the food. Right before heading to bed with her, he'd promised to make her some sushi (although none with puffer fish – he didn't want to poison her after all). He also promised to steer clear from Ana.

As he woke, he heard his phone ring. He listens to the message. "Uh, huh…sure…why didn't you call me last night," Gavin shouted into the phone. He sighed in irritation. "Fine. Fine. I'll be down there in five."

Gavin gets up. He throws on a shirt and pants. "I got to go. Last night was wonderful. But, it seems there's more to my cases," he said. "Will you lock up, please? Thanks!"

Marty woke up to find Ana in his room. He scowled at her. "Leave me alone," he growled. "You've done enough."

Marty pressed his lips together. "You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I am capable of. You'd be surprised," he replied. The man closed his mouth and opened it. He had the odd sensation of wanting to apologize for what he did to her – in the past. But he doesn't. He can't.

He shrugged. "I cannot predict how I will feel when I am old and gray," Marty replied. "But, I don't hate you…I hate what you did and have continued to do. But, I don't hate you – the person. I don't hate anyone."

She didn't respond. Instead, the woman whispered a word. Her voice wavered as she spoke and she looked hurt.

Marty heard the word and frowned. What was that spell for? He recognized the word, but for the life of him, he could not remember what it was for. "Why did you kiss me? Why do you keep kissing me," he asked her in a quiet voice. However, it seems Ana did not hear the questions and just leaves.

He frowned and his face paled. She knew who he was. Her memories were back or had they ever gone? Wearily, he shakes his head and stands just as Bradley comes in "She wanted a truce and to apologize. But, Ana knows…."

Bradley released the door handle as he moved to the side away from the lone window that looked in to Marty's room. He leaned up against the wall, pulling out his cellphone as he did so; it was something brand new, a gift from Lance or so the single text message said.

"Knows? ...what exactly? That you have regained your memories?" Bradley asked, leaning up against the wall near the door. He had a feeling that that was it but still...why would she want a truce? She didn't seem like that type of a person. Maybe; long ago Bradley could have seen her as that type of person but today?

Marty frowned and shook his head. "I don't if she knows that much, but she knows my real name. I suspect she does," he said. "Do you think this whole time she's figured it out and that's why she's been after me?"

Bradley texted his thanks to his partner, only to receive a text that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It was a series of pictures that showed Morgan and Gavin together. Along with the pictures were the words 'I didn't take these, a source emailed them to me this morning.'

This gave Bradley another reason to dislike the man. He didn't trust Morgan, who knows what things Gavin had told her! He was about to reply to the text when the door to Marty's room flew open and out raced Morgana. She looked very upset which was unusual.

Raising an eyebrow, Bradley put the phone away before standing up straight. He reentered Marty's room, studying the younger man's face intently. For once he didn't ask if everything was okay, figuring that if Marty wanted to say anything he would in his own time and way.

"Art helps me...art and speeding," Marty said, "with the wind blowing through my air and all the colors of the world surrounding me. There's not a thing like it." He shook his head. "Not a thing."

Bradley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, standing up straight as he glanced out the door. He saw his father coming down the hall; the look on Anthony's face being hard to gauge. It looked like he was annoyed; angry even but wasn't he always?

"You about ready to go? I think Gwen'll be back soon with the wheelchairs," Bradley said.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he said. "As ready as I'll ever be I guess." He shrugged as Gwen and a nurse came by.

He didn't have time to say anything else because the door to the room opened to admit Anthony Pendleton; a frown on the man's age old face.

"Father," Bradley said nervously, not really wanting to fight with his father right then.

Gavin doesn't drive to the hospital. He runs. By the time he's there, he's sweating. "What happened," he asked. "You look horrible." He looks over at Marty. "And so does he."

Suddenly another visitor showed up and this one made Bradley's skin crawl. "Gavin," Bradley all but snarled at the man.

He presses his lips together as Anthony reaches the door. A frown is on the lawyer's face and fear is on Marty's. He is not even greeted by the man.

"Bradley. Are you sure you want to go to the cabin? It's so far away and away from everyone. What if you're hurt or something worse happens and no one can help you," asked the man. As he said that, he glanced over to Marty.

"Yes father I am quite sure. The cabin is the perfect place to unwind. Besides, I think Marty is going to need it more than I will." Bradley replied. He then turned his attention to Gavin.

"Just be careful. I am not so sure I trust him," Anthony said. He eyed the miserable looking bloke. Yes, he did not trust him. The lawyer knew his background. He was Gael's friend after all. "And I don't even understand why you care? He's just a druggie...one you've arrested multiple times if my memory serves me right. I wouldn't be surprised if he's using you to get what he wants."

Gavin frowns. "What did I do?" he asked. "And what happened to you and him? Last I saw, he was sitting on the toilet seat and looking a mess. He looks worse than a mess. What happened?"

He looked around nervously. "Can we talk in private for a minute? I have something I need to tell you," Gavin whispered. "It's important."

"What happened to us? Oh, we both jumped off Lambeth Bridge thanks for asking. Well...he fell, I jumped in after him." Bradley said sarcastically. He had half a mind to wring Gavin's neck but not there.

"Talk in private? About what? About how you sold out to Morgan?!" Bradley all but roared. "Fine let's talk but make it brief." With that said, Bradley pushed past his father and Gavin. He left the room and entered in to the empty nurse's lounge that was just around the corner.

Anthony watches as Bradley left the hall and Gavin followed close behind. "Why were the two of you standing so close to the edge? You two could've been killed. Do you have a death wish," Gavin asked as he entered the lounge.

"Death wish? No, but Marty did, which is why I jumped in after him," Bradley said once the door to the lounge had closed.

"Listen, it's not what you think. Yes, I am having a fling with Morgan. Yes, I am helping her. But, it's only to protect you. You remember the little phone call I gave you the other day about Morgan asking questions?" he asked. "I believe in keeping my friends close and my enemies closer."

He scratched his cheek. "I'm trying to build a case against her. I've got a pile of evidence a mile high pertaining to her and Basil Mysak's death," he explained. "Right now she's having me research the papers Marty owns. I couldn't tell you what she wants it for, but she's dangerous. Protect your friend. He owns precious papers on time travel that i think she would kill for. Apparently he hid his machine in Scafell Pike."

He placed his good hand on his hip as he listened to Gavin's excuses. They were good, he had to give him that, but didn't the man understand the dangers he had placed upon Marty and Bradley?

"Sc...Scafell Pike. And let me guess, you told Morgan that location, right? You know you are really trying my patience. I was going to take Marty up there to my father's cabin. Now because of you, we are going to have to double time it up there. You really don't get it do you? Morgan and Morgana are out to destroy Marty, plain and simple. They will stop at nothing to do so, and here you are helping them. Gavin, I think now is the time to decide where your loyalties lie. If it's with Morgan then God help you because I sure won't." Bradley said.

He was very angry with Gavin now, believing the man to be somewhat of a traitor despite everything Gavin had told him.

The man whistled long and low as he shook his head. "I wondered what happened. Five different newspapers reported five different things. It's all over the news and radio, too. One claimed you saved him. Another claimed he saved you. There was a paper claiming you both fell and even one saying you pushed him. Although, in that same paper it claimed he pushed you and that Sasquatch had married Godzilla so no one believes them. I took the time to check it out on my way here. But, you can't really miss the headlines while on the road. Is it true two blokes saved you and Martin's life? They've done an interview and will be on the 6 o'clock news tonight."

"They only came to help when I called them over. Besides, I couldn't very well preform CPR on Marty with just one hand." Bradley replied. He became silent, listening to Gavin try and explain. He was walking a very fine line, Bradley just hoped the other man understand that.

The man chuckled. "I thought so. Their story seemed pretty far-fetched from what I noticed on the headlines. I wouldn't be surprised if there's not a movie deal in it for them, at least the story they've crafted sounds like the perfect blockbuster," Gavin said. "I bet Marty won't be happy hearing that his little jump is all over the headlines, huh?"

"Anyway, heroin's bad stuff…it makes you do crazy things," muttered the man as he brushed a strand of hair back from his forehead. "I guess it'll push ya far enough to want to jump off a bridge. I wouldn't know. I'd never try the stuff."

Gavin nodded. "Yeah. I managed to log into the files. Actually, I've managed several times. He detailed everything about this machine, drawings, where it is, what it does…you name it's there," he replied. "No! I didn't tell her where it is. She thinks that the password changes every month and I'm having trouble accessing it for long. It is changing each month, but only because I'm doing it. I did have trouble cracking the code at first, but after some trial and error I got it."

"Listen, Princess, I'm trying to help the two of you, so is Lee. These last few months we've been gathering evidence against her. I know how dangerous Morgan can be. I know this little dance I'm doing is dangerous. Yeah, I'm feeding her some information, but you've got way more. Just a minute," Gavin said. "I'll be right back."

He ran down the hallway and raced to his car. Picking up a thick packet, he returned to the room after five minutes. "Here, it's the papers Morgan's wanted. She hasn't seen them. She doesn't even know I've been printing them. There's about 500 pages of Dr. Mysak's material," Gavin huffed. "I've been meaning to drop them off for you a couple days ago, but you decided to go swimming. It's the only copy printed. My boss won't let me spare any more paper that."

When Gavin left, Bradley had been about to leave, but within five minutes Gavin had returned to the lounge, a packet of papers in his hand. Bradley eyed the packet. It contained papers that Marty's father had written? It was a bunch of material to be sure and it would take some time to go through. Reaching out a hand Bradley took the thick packet, not even bothering to open it yet.

"Answer me one thing. The location. Do you know exactly where in Scafell Pike this machine is?" Bradley asked.

"I honestly do not know where it is. I just know it's in that area. I sure didn't tell Morgan that information. I haven't read all of the papers anyway. That guy was thorough with his notes," explained Gavin.

Gavin shifted. "So, why are you two going out there? Shouldn't you be resting and shouldn't the kid be in a professional center getting the help he obviously needs. What if something happens to either of you and you can get help," he asked in a concerned voice.

"Marty does need help but he isn't going to get it in rehab. Rehab; to the unknowing it seems all well and good but honestly...it takes something from you, something that you can never get back," Bradley murmured, remembering his own experience. "Besides, Marty's uncle and I both promised him he wouldn't go to a rehab center. He said he wanted to get out of the city. My father has a cabin up in Scafell Pike. We hardly use it any more. To be honest with you I haven't been up there since I was seventeen but...it's still in good working order; father hires contractors to make sure it stays that way."

Bradley looks down at the packet in his hand for a moment before looking back up at Gavin.

"I know this plan probably isn't the smartest but I think it'll help Marty. Well...it would have. If Morgana and Morgan are headed up there too...I don't know. The Pike is a big place, maybe we won't run in to them," he said.

He shrugged. "It depends if they're triggers for him. If so, it might not help as much as you'd like it to. But, it is a big place. It's easy to get lost there if you don't know the place. I don't think either of them are campers anyway, so you have that going for your advantage."

He headed towards the door to the lounge but upon reaching it he stopped and glanced back at Gavin. "Thanks for the notes. I'll look over them on the way up to Scafell. Now, if I tell you the location of the cabin, will you at least try to make sure that Ana and Morgan don't find it?" Bradley asked.

"Not a problem. I would keep those safe if I were you. They are worth billions I would bet and I sure wouldn't want them getting in the wrong hands," he said. "Sure thing. I'm good at keeping secrets. I'm in the spying business – there are a lot of hush-hush things with this job."

"Do you think you can help him? Do you think anyone could help him? He doesn't seem like the type to stick with rehab, if I was honest with you. Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you helping this kid? If my mind serves me right, you arrested him six times," he asked. Gavin raised his eyebrows a bit.

"You don't say. You're gonna have a lot on your hands, well hand seeing as you only have one usable one right now. He's still going through withdrawals. It's not going to be easy or pretty. I've dealt with people in his situation, it's not fun," Gavin said.

"I too know that he's got a long road ahead of him; withdrawal aside. I know what it's like to go through that; I've been in that type of situation before. You know, the main reason I am taking him up there is because I'm hoping that the entire experience; atmosphere, surroundings and fresh air can help him like it always did me. When I was younger, things were always...difficult at home. Going to the cabin, it was the one place I could unwind and let it all go. I'm hopeful Marty can do the same."

"It's hard to explain in a rational way, Gavin. Marty and I are connected in a way that...well...let's just say I'm still learning about. Back during all those times I arrested him I just thought of him as some arrogant little punk hyped up on too many drugs. I didn't realize and couldn't remember that he was much more than that. He was my friend. He still is my friend. He deserves a chance to get better. He deserves a chance to live again," Bradley began.

The man crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I can tell. I can't think of one rational reason for this trip or your sudden fondness for a drug addict," muttered the man. "When was he your friend? I never saw a picture of him and you all never friended each other on Facebook."

Spying a notepad and pen on one of the tables, Bradley crossed over to it and after placing the packet down; he picked up the pen and quickly jotted down the address to the cabin. It was on a long, two mile dirt road; a little hard to find unless you knew where it was. The road snaked around Wastwater, ending in a large two story log cabin that was beside Wastwater; Scafell Pike looming close in the distance. Tearing off the paper, Bradley handed it to Gavin before picking up the packet again.

"Marty, my father and I should get going. We have a stop to make before we head up there and I'm sure that we'll have problems of our own once we get up there." Bradley said.

"Yeah, I know. Don't we all deserve that chance? I just want you to be careful, Princess. If he's hard-core…he'll want more in a few days and he'll do just about anything get him. I've seen it so many times. So, just be careful," Gavin said.

Gavin nodded a little bit. "Yeah, every day of his life'll be one long road with struggles and possible set-backs," he agreed. "So, uh, good luck. It'll hopefully help."

He watched him write the address down. Taking it, he shoved it into his pocket. "If you do, call me. I'll be there ASAP," Gavin said. "Later, Bradley. Have a fun trip!" He then strode out of the lounge and back to his car.

Shaking his head Bradley left the lounge and returned to Marty's room finding that everyone was still there waiting on him.

"I guess we better go; we have a long drive ahead." Bradley said, easing himself in to the second empty wheelchair that Gwen had brought.

"Sit," Gwen said in a gentle voice as she came into the room. She looks over at Bradley. "You too. OK?"

Bradley eyed the wheelchair for a moment before he moved over towards it, but he didn't sit down in it yet.

He had almost thought about insisting he walk out but Gwen had said it was hospital policy. Wordlessly the aide that had come in to the room with Gwen, unlocked the breaks on Bradley's wheelchair and wheeled him outside of the room, heading for the outer doors of the hospital.

"Father, before we leave town there is one place we need to stop at," Bradley said as he glanced back at Anthony for the briefest of moments. He wasn't exactly looking forward to admitting he lied to Marty, but Marty needed to know the truth; he needed his bike back.

"Yes, we do," Anthony said. His voice was stiff as he spoke. He didn't even look at his son as he spoke.

"I hear it's lovely there with the water and the trees. It's supposed to be so peaceful. They say fae live in their glens. I mean, I haven't been there so I wouldn't know. But it sounds lovely," Gwen chattered away as she pushed Bradley down the hallway.

"Well, if you insist. It is a long drive. I hope it won't take very much of our time. I'd like to get there and back before nightfall," said Anthony with a huff.

"Is it at the house? I really need…clothes," Marty whispered. He kept his eyes down so he was looking at the seat beneath him. His shoulders were hunched. He was pale and sweaty. Marty looked small and defeated.

"Hold it! Medicines," Gael shouted as he jogged to meet them. He first handed Bradley a bottle of pills. "Take one twice a day. You already had your dose this morning so all you need is one before bed. You don't have to take it, but it will reduce swelling and keep you from hurting as much. Got it?"

"Now, you Marty…here's your medicines," he said. Gael handed him a bag. "There are sleeping pills, anti-anxiety medicine, an anti-depressants, and methadone. The last one will help you with your withdrawals. Take them as the instructions say."

Gael looked over at Bradley. "Make sure he takes them. The sleeping aid isn't necessary, but he might need it. They are nonopiate drugs so he will be able to take them," he said. "Now, you boys are all set!"

As they exited the door, the media hounded the group. They were sticking microphones in their faces and asking questions. It was loud and Marty could not understand a word they were saying, but it caused him to panic.

"Get rid of them, please," he begged. He put his hand against his forehead and tried to hide. "I didn't ask for this."

"Go! Out of here," shouted Gael and Gwen, but they weren't listening.

"Let me handle this," Anthony said. He stepped forward. "Listen up; you can continue interviewing my son and the young man. You can continue taking photos, too. However, I will hunt you down and file suit against the lot of you as well as the corporations you work with. You will not follow us either. You got it? Good." The man smiled at the reporters as they begrudgingly left. Tenderly, Anthony then squeezed Bradley on the shoulder.

Okay...what the hell had just happened?! Bradley blinked. He saw white spots in his vision which were concurrent to those of a very bright camera flash going off right in front of his face.

He had heard many voices asking many questions, but they had all blurred together after only a moment. Then his father was talking, ordering the media to all go away and soon they all did.

Bradley felt his cellphone vibrate twice; the telltale sign that he had a text waiting for him. Even though he was interested to see what it said he ignored it for right now when he felt a pressure on his shoulder.

"Thank you father," Bradley murmured, still a little unsure about Anthony. They hadn't really gotten along in so long and then with the memories of Uther and Camelot. Bradley was very confused.

They soon arrived at the shiny black, Chevrolet Suburban; a car Bradley remembered fondly. Reaching up he grasped the black door handle and pulled, watching the door click open moments later. Using the open door and the side of the Suburban as leverage, Bradley stood up from the wheelchair.

"Don't worry Doctor Mysak. I'll make sure that Marty takes his medication." Bradley said. With that said Bradley climbed in to the back seat of the car. He was glad that he had chosen the backseat because after a quick glance up front Bradley saw that the front passenger seat was crammed full of papers and other documents; the life of a lawyer.

Smoothly Bradley placed the packet that Gavin had handed him down on the tan leather seat beside him, before placing his bottle of pills in the small cup holder that was on the other door.

As he waited for Marty to be helped in to the car Bradley then reached in to his pocket and withdrew his cellphone. It was another message from Lance.

It said that he had picked up Marty's clothes from the house and that he would be waiting with them and the bike at the storage unit, and then there was the address to the storage facility.

"You don't have to worry about extra clothes Marty, it's all been taken care of." Bradley called out to Marty.

"You do not need to thank me, Bradley. I am your father. I will always protect you. No one will harass my son and as long as I have breath in my lungs, I will protect you," he replied. When he spoke, his voice was stern as well as very confident. However, there was a slight warble to his words. It conveyed the love and care he felt towards young Bradley.

Anthony did not say anything else as they went to the car. He felt he'd said all he needed to. The middle-aged lawyer held onto the door with one hand. With the other, he rested it on the good arm's elbow. If his son fell or stumbled, Anthony would catch him. When Bradley was in the car, he closed the open-windowed door and then got into the driver's seat. In the rearview mirror, Anthony glanced at the reflection of Gael.

"Good luck," Gael said with a nod. "And thank you. I'm sure you realize this, but this is not an easy time for him. The anti-anxiety pills are to be taken as needed. He should only need them if he gets too panicked or agitated. The only medicines he really needs are the methadone and the anti-depressant."

As Marty clamored out of the wheelchair, he waved Gwen away. He didn't want her help. Before getting in, Martin pushed the envelope of papers away; he didn't want to sit on them. With shaking legs, the young man got into the car and strapped himself in. "I'm fine," he said to her, even though it was clear he wasn't doing well and he was just barely hanging onto good reason.

"Have fun and be careful! If you have any trouble or if you have any questions at all, call me," Gael said as Marty closed the door. "Don't worry about the time either. I'll answer at any time."

Hearing the news, Marty nodded. "What about art supplies? I need paper and pens," he asked in a quiet voice.

"Already up at the cabin; they should still be good." Bradley replied. As a kid he used to dabble a little in the arts; he sucked at it but he did try. He kept his old paint set up there along with extra papers. He kept it hidden just in case anyone wanted to steal it; oh the mind of a youngster fearing of burglars.

"All right," muttered Marty. He moved his head from the headrest so that he was now propped against the cool glass of the window. His gaze was distant and distinctly forlorn. It was as if his mind was miles or years away, while his body was still in this time and spot. "They better be. If not…I guess I'll go and find some berries and make my own inks to draw with." As he said that, his lips turned up in a twinge of a smile, but it fell after a moment.

After giving Anthony the address, Bradley sat back and tried to relax, but he was still very worried about Marty.

His lips were turned down into a frown as he leaned his head against the headrest. To look out the window, he turned his head away from Bradley so that there was a clear profile of his pale face. The light and life that used to be in his blue eyes was gone. In its place, was darkness – it was a tiredness, a forlornness. He had dark circles under them, which created a sunken look. His face shined with sweat. His body still wasn't sure how to regulate its own body temperature. Resting his hands on his knees, Marty fidgeted with the fabric of his pants. His feet moved nonstop in a small rocking motion.

"I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can stay clean or even stay alive," whispered Martin. "I couldn't even deal with having my picture taken! How can I work with other things that will come if that caused me to panic? Maybe you're right, maybe I am a girl. You always used to like calling me that. I don't know if you remember that or not. Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"A girl? Well you were...back then. Not so much now Merlin." Bradley playfully shot back hoping to draw some sort of response from the younger man.

He nodded a little bit. "Yeah, you used to call me a girl especially on hunting trips. I never was any good at those moments – always too loud in one way or another. You don't remember, do you? I guess it'll come back to you," Marty whispered.

He sighed and grew quiet. Just sitting there, Marty closed his eyes, but he didn't fall asleep. Marty just let the rocking motion of the car lull him into a semi-state of calmness. "I'm scared," he admitted after a while.

"There's everything to be scared of. At any second, I could lose this battle and submit to my cravings. At any second, something could happen and it'll be too much for me and…and that'll be it. I've faced so many things before now – creatures you never could believe existed, but do or did, as well as seen sword on sword combat. Those things are controllable. Those things I can see. This, it takes hold and I have no power to direct it. It directs me. Besides, if I slip…I'll let everyone down again, like I always do. I'll let myself down," Marty said as he looked at Bradley's hand.

It nearly broke Bradley's heart when Marty admitted that he was scared. Scooting up in his seat, Bradley placed a warm hand on Marty's shoulder. "There's no need to be scared Marty. I'm here for you. You are not alone in this." He said.

Bradley didn't remove his hand, even when the Suburban pulled to a stop some twenty minutes later. A quick glance out of the tinted side window was enough to tell Bradley that they had arrived at the storage facility. Just inside the gate Bradley saw Lance standing next to the box where one would enter the code to get in through the gate.

He stiffened. He wanted to remove it from his shoulder, but didn't. Something in him doesn't like the hand there. It doesn't feel right or proper. "Besides, you can't always be there. What about when we're going to bed or you're at work or showering or out on a date or something? You can't be with me all of the time. I don't want you to be. But, in those moments where I am alone…then what," Marty asked with a shake of his head.

After a moment Lance entered the code and the black gate slowly opened.

"Do you think you can walk, Marty?" Bradley asked.

"Yeah, I can. I will," he replied. "It just might take me a little while to get where ever we're headed."

"You know…I feel like I'm going to a rehab center. You're not lying to me, are you," Marty asked. "I didn't get to go back and get my clothes. I didn't get to go get my art supplies. Nothing. We just checked out of the hospital and headed out to this far off place. It's what they do for people entering rehab…."

Bradley released Marty's shoulder, scooted over to the passenger side backseat door and opened it. Climbing out, Bradley easily walked over to Lance, clapping his hand to Lance's hand in a sort of high-five style' greeting. "Hey Lance." Bradley said.

"Brad, good to see you guys made it. This won't take long," Lance said as he led Bradley over to a storage unit that was three doors down from the still open gate.

"I got everything you asked for from your house; all of Marty's clothes, a fresh art set that included markers, pencils, paper and paint...a lot of paint; also a small trailer complete with hitch so you can hook up the bike to your father's Suburban. I bet Marty would want to ride it himself, but I don't think it would be a wise decision." Lance said.

Bradley nodded his head before glancing over to see where Marty was. It was then that he noticed they had stopped and it was then that he saw where they were standing. "Only you Lance would have two combination locks, a keypad and a thumb print lock on your storage unit," Bradley chuckled, "How'd you manage to pull that off?"

Lance shrugged. "I bought the entire row of units from the owners of this facility." he said.

"On a cop's salary? That hardly seems likely," Bradley shot back, watching as Lance first took off the combination locks, entered the code on the keypad and then placed his thumb on the last remaining lock.

"Bradley my friend...what you don't know can't hurt you," Lance replied, smiling when he heard the last lock disengage. The bright red door lifted up on its own to reveal the contents inside.

Bradley's eyes became as wide as saucers. Inside it was literally like a long house. All of the metal walls were gone; remodeled so the entire row of units was connected. "You live...in a storage facility..." Bradley muttered, almost unable to contain his shock.

"Sometimes, it's where I work," Lance replied, walking in to the 'garage.' Bending down he hoisted up a big, black backpack and handed it to Bradley. When Bradley took it he almost dropped it; it was that heavy.

"Lemme guess...this is Marty's stuff," Bradley said, managing to swing the strap on to his good shoulder.

"How'd you guess?" Lance replied with a chuckle.

Bradley watched him go over to a beige tarp that was against the wall. It was draped over some boxes, or at least that's what it looked like, but both Bradley and Lance knew better.

Going back outside, Bradley waved Marty over. "Marty, you need to see this." Bradley called out to his friend.

Bradley glanced over his shoulder in time to see Lance remove the tarp, fold it and then put it away. There was Marty's bike, all shiny and in perfect condition.

"I assume you still have the keys?" Lance asked, watching Bradley pat his pocket.

Of course he still had the keys; to be safe he had placed them on his key ring when Marty didn't take them at his house.


	30. Chapter 29: A Brand New Day

Last night had been incredible. The food had been better than ever. The wine was great. Morgan even seemed to have enjoyed herself as well as the food. Right before heading to bed with her he'd promised to make her some sushi (although none with puffer fish – he didn't want to poison her after all). He also promised to steer clear from Ana.

As he woke, he heard his phone ring. He listens to the message. "Uh,huh…sure…why didn't you call me last night," Gavin shouted into the phone. He sighed in irritation. "Fine. Fine. I'll be down there in five."

Gavin gets up. He throws on a shirt and pants. "I got to go. Last night was wonderful. But, it seems there's more to my cases," he said. "Will you lock up, please? Thanks!"

Bradley released the door handle as he moved to the side away from the lone window that looked in to Marty's room. He leaned up against the wall, pulling out his cellphone as he did so; it was something brand new, a gift from Lance or so the single text message said.

Bradley texted his thanks to his partner, only to receive a text that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It was a series of pictures that showed Morgan and Gavin together. Along with the pictures were the words 'I didn't take these, a source emailed them to me this morning.'

This gave Bradley another reason to dislike the man. He didn't trust Morgan, who knows what things Gavin had told her! He was about to reply to the text when the door to Marty's room flew open and out raced Morgana. She looked very upset which was unusual.

Raising an eyebrow, Bradley put the phone away before standing up straight. He reentered Marty's room, studying the younger man's face intently. For once he didn't ask if everything was okay, figuring that if Marty wanted to say anything he would in his own time and way.

"Art helps me...art and speeding," Marty said, "with the wind blowing through my air and all the colors of the world surrounding me. There's not a thing like it." He shook his head. "Not a thing."

Marty pressed his lips together. "You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I am capable of. You'd be surprised," he replied. The man closed his mouth and opened it. He had the odd sensation of wanting to apologize for what he did to her – in the past. But he doesn't. He can't.

He shrugged. "I cannot predict how I will feel when I am old and gray," Marty replied. "But, I don't hate you…I hate what you did and have continued to do. But, I don't hate you – the person. I don't hate anyone."

Marty heard the word and frowned. What was that spell for? He recognized the word, but for the life of him, he could not remember what it was for. "Why did you kiss me? Why do you keep kissing me," he asked her in a quiet voice. However, it seems Ana did not hear the questions.

He frowned and his face paled. She knew who he was. Her memories were back or had they ever gone? Wearily, he shakes his head and stands justy as Bradley comes in "She wanted a truce and to apologize. But, Ana knows…."

"Knows? ...what exactly? That you have regained your memories?" Bradley asked, leaning up against the wall near the door. He had a feeling that that was it but still...why would she want a truce? She didn't seem like that type of a person. Maybe; long ago Bradley could have seen her as that type of person but today?

Bradley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, standing up straight as he glanced out the door. He saw his father coming down the hall; the look on Anthony's face being hard to gauge. It looked like he was annoyed; angry even but wasn't he always?

"You about ready to go? I think Gwen'll be back soon with the wheelchairs," Bradley said.

He didn't have time to say anything else because the door to the room opened to admit Anthony Pendleton; a frown on the man's age old face.

"Father," Bradley said nervously, not really wanting to fight with his father right then.

Suddenly another visitor showed up and this one made Bradley's skin crawl.

Gavin doesn't drive to the hospital. He runs. By the time he's there, he's sweating. "What happened," he asked. "You look horrible." He looks over at Marty. "And so does he."

"Gavin," Bradley all but snarled at the man.

Marty frowned and shook his head. "I don't if she knows that much, but she knows my real name. I suspect she does," he said. "Do you think this whole time she's figured it out and that's why she's been after me."

"Yeah, I'm ready," he said. "As ready as I'll ever be I guess." He shrugged as Gwen and a nurse came by.

"Sit," Gwen said in a gentle voice. She looks over at Bradley. "You too. OK?"

He presses his lips together as Anthony reaches the door. A frown is on the lawyer's face and fear is on Marty's. He is not even greeted by the man.

"Bradley. Are you sure you want to go to the cabin? It's so far away and away from everyone. What if you're hurt or something worse happens and no one can help you," asked the man. As he said that, he glanced over to Marty.

Gavin frowns. "What did I do?" he asked. "And what happened to you and him? Last I saw, he was sitting on the toilet seat and looking a mess. He looks worse than a mess. What happened?"

He looked around nervously. "Can we talk in private for a minute? I have something I need to tell you," Gavin whispered. "It's important."

Bradley eyed the wheelchair for a moment before he moved over towards it, but he didn't sit down in it yet.

"Yes father I am quite sure. The cabin is the perfect place to unwind. Besides, I think Marty is going to need it more than I will." Bradley replied.

He then turned his attention to Gavin.

"What happened to us? Oh, we both jumped off Lambeth Bridge thanks for asking. Well...he fell, I jumped in after him." Bradley said sarcastically. He had half a mind to wring Gavin's neck but not there.

"Talk in private? About what? About how you sold out to Morgan?!" Bradley all but roared, "Fine let's talk but make it brief."

With that said, Bradley pushed past his father and Gavin. He left the room and entered in to the empty nurse's lounge that was just around the corner.

"Just be careful. I am not so sure I trust him," Anthony said. He eyed the miserable looking bloke. Yes, he did not trust him. The lawyer knew his background. He was Gael's friend after all. "And I don't even understand why you care? He's just a druggie...one you've arrested multiple times if my memory serves me right. I wouldn't be surprised if he's using you to get what he wants."

Anthony watches as Bradley left the hall and Gavin followed close behind. "Why were the two of you standing so close to the edge? You two could've been killed. Do you have a death wish," Gavin asked as he entered the lounge.

"Listen, it's not what you think. Yes, I am having a fling with Morgan. Yes, I am helping her. But, it's only to protect you. You remember the little phone call I gave you the other day about Morgan asking questions?" he asked. "I believe in keeping my friends close and my enemies closer."

He scratched his cheek. "I'm trying to build a case against her. I've got a pile of evidence a mile high pertaining to her and Basil Mysak's death," he explained. "Right now she's having me research the papers Marty owns. I couldn't tell you what she wants it for, but she's dangerous. Protect your friend. He owns precious papers on time travel that i think she would kill for. Apparently he hid his machine in Scafell Pike."

"Death wish? No, but Marty did which is why I jumped in after him." Bradley said once the door to the lounge had closed.

He placed his good hand on his hip as he listened to Gavin's excuses. They were good, he had to give him that but didn't the man understand the dangers he had placed upon Marty and Bradley?

"Sc...Scafell Pike. And let me guess, you told Morgan that location, right? You know you are really trying my patience. I was going to take Marty up there to my father's cabin. Now because of you we are going to have to double time it up there. You really don't get it do you? Morgan and Morgana are out to destroy Marty, plain and simple. They will stop at nothing to do so, and here you are helping them. Gavin, I think now is the time to decide where your loyalties lie. If it's with Morgan then God help you because I sure won't." Bradley said.

He was very angry with Gavin now, believing the man to be somewhat of a traitor despite everything Gavin had told him.

The man whistled long and low as he shook his head. "I wondered what happened. Five different newspapers reported five different things. It's all over the news and radio, too. One claimed you saved him. Another claimed he saved you. There was a paper claiming you both fell and even one saying you pushed him. Although, in that same paper it claimed he pushed him and that Sasquatch had married Godzilla so no one believes them. I took the time to check it out on my way here. But, you can't really miss the headlines while on the road. Is it true two blokes saved you and Martin's life? They've done an interview and will be on the 6 o'clock news tonight."

"Anyway, heroin's bad stuff…it makes you do crazy things," muttered the man as he brushed a strand of hair back from his forehead. "I guess it'll push ya far enough to want to jump off a bridge. I wouldn't know. I'd never try the stuff."

Gavin nodded. "Yeah. I managed to log into the files. Actually, I've managed several times. He detailed everything about this machine, drawings, where it is, what it does…you name it's there," he replied. "No! I didn't tell her where it is. She thinks that the password changes every month and I'm having trouble accessing it for long. It is changing each month, but only because I'm doing it. I did have trouble cracking the code at first, but after some trial and error I got it."

"Listen, Princess, I'm trying to help the two of you, so is Lee. These last few months we've been gathering evidence against her. I know how dangerous Morgan can be. I know this little dance I'm doing is dangerous. Yeah, I'm feeding her some information, but you've got way more. Just a minute," Gavin said. "I'll be right back."

He ran down the hallway and raced to his car. Picking up a thick packet, he returned to the room after five minutes. "Here, it's the papers Morgan's wanted. She hasn't seen them. She doesn't even know I've been printing them. There's about 500 pages of Dr. Mysak's material," Gavin huffed. "I've been meaning to drop them off for you a couple days ago, but you decided to go swimming. It's the only copy printed. My boss won't let me spare any more paper that.

"They only came to help when I called them over. Besides, I couldn't very well preform CPR on Marty with just one hand." Bradley replied. He became silent, listening to Gavin try and explain. He was walking a very fine line, Bradley just hoped the other man understand that.

When Gavin left, Bradley had been about to leave, but within five minutes Gavin had returned to the lounge, a packet of papers in his hand.

Bradley eyed the packet. It contained papers that Marty's father had written? It was a bunch of material to be sure and it would take some time to go through.

Reaching out a hand Bradley took the thick packet, not even bothering to open it yet.

"Answer me one thing. The location. Do you know exactly where in Scafell Pike this machine is?" Bradley asked.

The man chuckled. "I thought so. Their story seemed pretty far-fetched from what I noticed on the headlines. I wouldn't be surprised if there's not a movie deal in it for them, at least the story they've crafted sounds like the perfect blockbuster," Gavin said. "I bet Marty won't be happy hearing that his little jump is all over the headlines, huh?"

"I honestly do not know where it is. I just know it's in that area. I sure didn't tell Morgan that information. I haven't read all of the paper's anyway. That guy was thorough with his notes," explained Gavin.

Gavin shifted. "So, why are you two going out there? Shouldn't you be resting and shouldn't the kid be in a professional center getting the help he obviously needs. What if something happens to either of you and you can get help," he asked in a concerned voice.

"Marty does need help but he isn't going to get it in rehab. Rehab; to the unknowing it seems all well and good but honestly...it takes something from you, something that you can never get back." Bradley murmured, remembering his own experience. "Besides, Marty's uncle and I both promised him he wouldn't go to a rehab center. He said he wanted to get out of the city, my father has a cabin up in Scafell Pike; we hardly use it any more. To be honest with you I haven't been up there since I was seventeen but...it's still in good working order; father hires contractors to make sure it stays that way."

Bradley looks down at the packet in his hand for a moment before looking back up at Gavin.

"I know this plan probably isn't the smartest but I think it'll help Marty. Well...it would have. If Morgana and Morgan are headed up there too...I don't know. The Pike is a big place, maybe we won't run in to them." he said.

He headed towards the door to the lounge but upon reaching it he stopped and glanced back at Gavin. "Thanks for the notes; I'll look over them on the way up to Scafell. Now, if I tell you the location of the cabin, will you at least try to make sure that Ana and Morgan don't find it?" Bradley asked.

"Do you think you can help him? Do you think anyone could help him? He doesn't seem like the type to stick with rehab, if I was honest with you. Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you helping this kid? If my mind serves me right, you arrested him six times," he asked. Gavin raised his eyebrows a bit.

"You don't say. You're gonna have a lot on your hands, well hand seeing as you only have one usable one right now. He's still going through withdrawals. It's not going to be easy or pretty. I've dealt with people in his situation, it's not fun," Gavin said.

H shrugged. "It depends if they're triggers for him. If so, it might not help as much as you'd like it to. But, it is a big place. It's easy to get lost there if you don't know the place. I don't think either of them are campers anyway, so you have that going for your advantage."

"Not a problem. I would keep those safe if I were you. They are worth billions I would bet and I sure wouldn't want them getting in the wrong hands," he said. "Sure thing. I'm good at keeping secrets. I'm in the spying business – there are a lot of hush-hush things with this job."

"It's hard to explain in a rational way, Gavin. Marty and I are connected in a way that...well...let's just say I'm still learning about. Back during all those times I arrested him I just thought of him as some arrogant little punk hyped up on too many drugs. I didn't realize and couldn't remember that he was much more than that. He was my friend. He still is my friend. He deserves a chance to get better; he deserves a chance to live again," Bradley began.

"I too know that he's got a long road ahead of him; withdrawal aside. I know what it's like to go through that; I've been in that type of situation before. You know, the main reason I am taking him up there is because I'm hoping that the entire experience; atmosphere, surroundings and fresh air can help him like it always did me. When I was younger, things were always...difficult at home. Going to the cabin, it was the one place I could unwind and let it all go. I'm hopeful Marty can do the same."

Spying a notepad and pen on one of the tables, Bradley crossed over to it and after placing the packet down, he picked up the pen and quickly jotted down the address to the cabin. It was on a long, two mile dirt road; a little hard to find unless you knew where it was. The road snaked around Wastwater, ending in a large two story log cabin that was beside Wastwater; Scafell Pike looming close in the distance.

Tearing off the paper, Bradley handed it to Gavin before picking up the packet again.

"Marty, my father and I should get going. We have a stop to make before we head up there and I'm sure that we'll have problems of our own once we get up there." Bradley said.

The man crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I can tell. I can't think of one rational reason for this trip or your sudden fondness for a drug addict," muttered the man. "When was he your friend? I never saw a picture of him and you all never friended each other on Facebook."

"Yeah, I know. Don't we all deserve that chance? I just want you to be careful, Princess. If he's hard-core…he'll want more in a few days and he'll do just about anything get him. I've seen it so many times. So, just be careful," Gavin said.

Gavin nodded a little bit. "Yeah, every day of his life'll be one long road with struggles and possible set-backs," he agreed. "So, uh, good luck. It'll hopefully help."

He watched him write the address down. Taking it, he shoved it into his pocket. "If you do, call me. I'll be there ASAP," Gavin said. "Later, Bradley. Have a fun trip!" He then strode out of the lounge and back to his car.

Shaking his head Bradley left the lounge and returned to Marty's room finding that everyone was still there waiting on him.

"I guess we better go; we have a long drive ahead." Bradley said, easing himself in to the second empty wheelchair that Gwen had brought.

He had almost thought about insisting he walk out but Gwen had said it was hospital policy.

Wordlessly the aide that had come in to the room with Gwen, unlocked the breaks on Bradley's wheelchair and wheeled him outside of the room, heading for the outer doors of the hospital.

"Father, before we leave town there is one place we need to stop at." Bradley said as he glanced back at Anthony for the briefest of moments. He wasn't exactly looking forward to admitting he lied to Marty, but Marty needed to know the truth; he needed his bike back.

"Yes, we do," Anthony said. His voice was stiff as he spoke. He didn't even look at his son as he spoke.

"I hear it's lovely there with the water and the trees. It's supposed to be so peaceful. They say fae live in their glens. I mean, I haven't been there so I wouldn't know. But it sounds lovely," Gwen chattered away as she pushed Bradley down the hallway.

"Well, if you insist. It is a long drive. I hope it won't take very much of our time. I'd like to get there and back before nightfall," said Anthony with a huff.

"Is it at the house? I really need…clothes," Marty whispered. He kept his eyes down so he was looking at the seat beneath him. His shoulders were hunched. He was pale and sweaty. Marty looked small and defeated.

"Hold it! Medicines," Gael shouted as he jogged to meet them. He first handed Bradley a bottle of pills. "Take one twice a day. You already had your dose this morning so all you need is one before bed. You don't have to take it, but it will reduce swelling and keep you from hurting as much. Got it?"

"Now, you Marty…here's your medicines," he said. Gael handed him a bag. "There are sleeping pills, anti-anxiety medicine, an anti-depressants, and methadone. The last one will help you with your withdrawals. Take them as the instructions say."

Gael looked over at Bradley. "Make sure he takes them. The sleeping aid isn't necessary, but he might need it. They are nonopiate drugs so he will be able to take them," he said. "Now, you boys are all set!"

As they exited the door, the media hounded the group. They were sticking microphones in their faces and asking questions. It was loud and Marty could not understand a word they were saying, but it caused him to panic.

"Get rid of them, please," he begged. He put his hand against his forehead and tried to hide. "I didn't ask for this."

"Go! Out of here," shouted Gael and Gwen, but they weren't listening.

"Let me handle this," Anthony said. He stepped forward. "Listen up; you can continue interviewing my son and the young man. You can continue taking photos, too. However, I will hunt you down and file suit against the lot of you as well as the corporations you work with. You will not follow us either. You got it? Good." The man smiled at the reporters as they begrudgingly left. Tenderly, Anthony then squeezed Bradley on the shoulder.

Okay...what the hell had just happened?! Bradley blinked. He saw white spots in his vision which were concurrent to those of a very bright camera flash going off right in front of his face.

He had heard many voices asking many questions but they had all blurred together after only a moment. Then his father was talking, ordering the media to all go away and soon they all did.

Bradley felt his cellphone vibrate twice; the telltale sign that he had a text waiting for him. Even though he was interested to see what it said he ignored it for right now when he felt a pressure on his shoulder.

"Thank you father." Bradley murmured, still a little unsure about Anthony. They hadn't really gotten along in so long and then with the memories of Uther and Camelot...Bradley was very confused.

They soon arrived at the shiny black, Chevrolet Suburban; a car Bradley remembered fondly. Reaching up he grasped the black door handle and pulled, watching the door click open moments later. Using the open door and the side of the Suburban as leverage, Bradley stood up from the wheelchair.

"Don't worry Doctor Mysak, I'll make sure that Marty takes his medication." Bradley said. With that said Bradley climbed in to the back seat of the car. He was glad that he had chosen the backseat because after a quick glance up front Bradley saw that the front passenger seat was crammed full of papers and other documents; the life of a lawyer.

Smoothly Bradley placed the packet that Gavin had handed him down on the tan leather seat beside him, before placing his bottle of pills in the small cup holder that was on the other door.

As he waited for Marty to be helped in to the car Bradley then reached in to his pocket and withdrew his cellphone. It was another message from Lance.

It said that he had picked up Marty's clothes from the house and that he would be waiting with them and the bike at the storage unit, and then there was the address to the storage facility.

"You don't have to worry about extra clothes Marty, it's all been taken care of." Bradley called out to Marty.

"You do not need to thank me, Bradley. I am your father. I will always protect you. No one will harass my son and as long as I have breath in my lungs, I will protect you," he replied. When he spoke, his voice was stern as well as very confident. However, there was a slight warble to his words. It conveyed the love and care he felt towards young Bradley.

Anthony did not say anything else as they went to the car. He felt he'd said all he needed to. The middle-aged lawyer held onto the door with one hand. With the other, he rested it on the good arm's elbow. If his son fell or stumbled, Anthony would catch him. When Bradley was in the car, he closed the open-windowed door and then got into the driver's seat. In the rearview mirror, Anthony glanced at the reflection of Gael.

"Good luck," Gael said with a nod. "And thank you. I'm sure you realize this, but this is not an easy time for him. The anti-anxiety pills are to be taken as needed. He should only need them if he gets too panicked or agitated. The only medicines he really needs are the methadone and the anti-depressant."

As Marty clamored out of the wheelchair, he waved Gwen away. He didn't want her help. Before getting in, Martin pushed the envelope of papers away; he didn't want to sit on them. With shaking legs, the young man got into the car and strapped himself in. "I'm fine," he said to her, even though it was clear he wasn't doing well and he was just barely hanging onto good reason.

"Have fun and be careful! If you have any trouble or if you have any questions at all, call me," Gael said as Marty closed the door. "Don't worry about the time either. I'll answer at any time."

Hearing the news, Marty nodded. "What about art supplies? I need paper and pens," he asked in a quiet voice.

His lips were turned down into a frown as he leaned his head against the headrest. To look out the window, he turned his head away from Bradley so that there was a clear profile of his pale face. The light and life that used to be in his blue eyes was gone. In its place, was darkness – it was a tiredness, a forlornness. He had dark circles under them, which created a sunken look. His face shined with sweat. His body still wasn't sure how to regulate its own body temperature. Resting his hands on his knees, Marty fidgeted with the fabric of his pants. He feet moved nonstop in a small rocking motion.

"I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can stay clean or even stay alive," whispered Martin. "I couldn't even deal with having my picture taken! How can I work with other things that will come if that caused me to panic? Maybe you're right, maybe I am a girl. You always used to like calling me that. I don't know if you remember that or not. Never mind, it doesn't matter."

He sighed and grew quiet. Just sitting there, Marty closed his eyes, but he didn't fall asleep. Marty just let the rocking motion of the car lull him into a semi-state of calmness. "I'm scared," he admitted after a while.

"Already up at the cabin; they should still be good." Bradley replied. As a kid he used to dabble a little in the arts; he sucked at it but he did try. He kept his old paint set up there along with extra papers. He kept it hidden just in case anyone wanted to steal it; oh the mind of a youngster fearing of burglars.

After giving Anthony the address, Bradley sat back and tried to relax but he was still very worried about Marty.

"A girl? Well you were...back then. Not so much now Merlin." Bradley playfully shot back hoping to draw some sort of response from the younger man.

It nearly broke Bradley's heart when Marty admitted that he was scared. Scooting up in his seat, Bradley placed a warm hand on Marty's shoulder.

"There's no need to be scared Marty. I'm here for you. You are not alone in this." He said.

Bradley didn't remove his hand, even when the Suburban pulled to a stop some twenty minutes later. A quick glance out of the tinted side window was enough to tell Bradley that they had arrived at the storage facility. Just inside the gate Bradley saw Lance standing next to the box where one would enter the code to get in through the gate.

After a moment Lance entered the code and the black gate slowly opened.

"Do you think you can walk, Marty?" Bradley asked.

"All right," muttered Marty. He moved his head from the headrest so that he was now propped against the cool glass of the window. His gaze was distant and distinctly forlorn. It was as if his mind was miles or years away, while his body was still in this time and spot. "They better be. If not…I guess I'll go and find some berries and make my own inks to draw with." As he said that, his lips turned up in a twinge of a smile, but it fell after a moment.

"You know…I feel like I'm going to a rehab center. You're not lying to me, are you," Marty asked. "I didn't get to go back and get my clothes. I didn't get to go get my art supplies. Nothing. We just checked out of the hospital and headed out to this far off place. It's what they do for people entering rehab…."

He nodded a little bit. "Yeah, you used to call me a girl especially on hunting trips. I never was any good at those moments – always too loud in one way or another. You don't remember, do you? I guess it'll come back to you," Marty whispered.

"There's everything to be scared of. At any second, I could lose this battle and submit to my cravings. At any second, something could happen and it'll be too much for me and…and that'll be it. I've faced so many things before now – creatures you never could believe existed, but do or did, as well as seen sword on sword combat. Those things are controllable. Those things I can see. This, it takes hold and I have no power to direct it. It directs me. Besides, if I slip…I'll let everyone down again, like I always do. I'll let myself down," Marty said as he looked at Bradley's hand.

He stiffened. He wanted to remove it from his shoulder, but didn't. Something in him doesn't like the hand there. It doesn't feel right or proper. "Besides, you can't always be there. What about when we're going to bed or you're at work or showering or out on a date or something? You can't be with me all of the time. I don't want you to be. But, in those moments where I am alone…then what," Marty asked with a shake of his head.

"Yeah, I can. I will," he replied. "It just might take me a little while to get where ever we're headed."

Bradley released Marty's shoulder, scooted over to the passenger side backseat door and opened it. Climbing out, Bradley easily walked over to Lance, clapping his hand to Lance's hand in a sort of high-five style' greeting.

"Hey Lance." Bradley said.

"Brad, good to see you guys made it. This won't take long," Lance said as he led Bradley over to a storage unit that was three doors down from the still open gate.

"I got everything you asked for from your house; all of Marty's clothes, a fresh art set that included markers, pencils, paper and paint...a lot of paint; also a small trailer complete with hitch so you can hook up the bike to your father's Suburban. I bet Marty would want to ride it himself but I don't think it would be a wise decision." Lance said.

Bradley nodded his head before glancing over to see where Marty was.

It was then that he noticed they had stopped and it was then that he saw where they were standing.

"Only you Lance would have two combination locks, a keypad and a thumb print lock on your storage unit," Bradley chuckled, "How'd you manage to pull that off?"

Lance shrugged. "I bought the entire row of units from the owners of this facility." he said.

"On a cop's salary? That hardly seems likely." Bradley shot back, watching as Lance first took off the combination locks, entered the code on the keypad and then placed his thumb on the last remaining lock.

"Bradley my friend...what you don't know can't hurt you." Lance replied, smiling when he heard the last lock disengage. The bright red door lifted up on its own to reveal the contents inside.

Bradley's eyes became as wide as saucers. Inside it was literally like a long house. All of the metal walls were gone; remodeled so the entire row of units were connected.

"You live...in a storage facility..." Bradley muttered, almost unable to contain his shock.

"Sometimes, it's where I work." Lance replied, walking in to the 'garage.' Bending down he hoisted up a big, black backpack and handed it to Bradley. When Bradley took it he almost dropped it; it was that heavy.

"Lemme guess...this is Marty's stuff." Bradley said, managing to swing the strap on to his good shoulder.

"How'd you guess?" Lance replied with a chuckle.

Bradley watched him go over to a beige tarp that was against the wall. It was draped over some boxes, or at least that's what it looked like, but both Bradley and Lance knew better.

Going back outside, Bradley waved Marty over.

"Marty, you need to see this." Bradley called out to his friend.

Bradley glanced over his shoulder in time to see Lance remove the tarp, fold it and then put it away.

There was Marty's bike, all shiny and in perfect condition.

"I assume you still have the keys?" Lance asked, watching Bradley pat his pocket.

Of course he still had the keys; to be safe he had placed them on his keyring when Marty didn't take them at his house.


	31. Chapter 30: A Brand New Ana

She has never done a spell like this; normally this is something she would perform with Morgause. But she can almost feel the judgment that would come from Morgause. Her sister is many things, but the destruction of oneself is not what she signs up for. Morgan wants her to be her, not to do what she will do.

She goes through her cabinet; the spell book had to be in there. She finds the spell and potion book. She looks quickly, the spell itself is simple, but the repercussions are destructive. She runs back to the cabinet and pulls out the blood stone. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at the stone. Anubis watches her as she walks outside, placing the stone in front of her and creating a circle with diamond dust.

She walks back to her house one last time and grabs a small dagger, the handle intricate and beautiful. She walks slowly back to the circle. She looks to Anubis, wondering how this dreadful spell will affect her relationship with her dog. She kneels down in front of him, scratching his ears. "No matter what happens...mama loves you alright?"

He only wags his tail as she walks back over to the circle. Her lip trembles as the words fall from her lips:

Cé mise anois

Ní bheidh a bhfuil mé amárach

Mothúcháin ard agus cumhacht trí

Fág mo chorp agus an fhírinne a athrú!

She takes the dagger to her palm and slices into her flesh. She screams in pain, even her conversations with the stars never felt this way. She can feel the swirl inside of her body, the blood pumping, and the release from her body. Her emotions, never did she see them as weak, as frivolous, but the stars have shown her otherwise. They showed her that with her compassion, her love for the manservant and his king, she would not succeed.

It is a painful thing - separating your emotions from your body, but as her blood pours over the stone it pulsates and pulls everything that was once the good and kind Ana into the stone. She will never feel compassion, doubt, again. She screams as a bright light overtakes her whole being then rushes back into the stone. It glows from the emotions swirling inside the stone.

She looks down at the rock, inside are her emotions of love. Now she is left with just anger, power, and focus. She now knows her purpose. She smirks. She grabs the small stone knowing to keep it close. Her jade eyes darken. Her face looks that of a killer. Her dog goes up to her, but she just moves away from him. For a moment she looks back, trying to find it in herself as to why she has kept such a useless creature.

She then remembers. He is her protector. Her lips twitch as she holds her hand out. Her puppy slowly walks up to her, putting his face in her palm. Her face becomes twisted as she smiles.

"We must call Morgan, Anubis. I have a manservant to destroy and a kingdom to rule."

Morgan walks up to her sister's house, anger pulsating in her veins. She stupidly slept over. Even worse, she woke up on his chest, cuddling his freaking chest! She is growling as she throws open Ana's door screaming for her sister. She stops short. Her body tingles as she feels magic running through the air. She slowly walks in, her steps cautious.

"Ana?"

"Don't call me that."

Morgan's head snaps to the side. Ana is sitting on the coach - her eyes dark and menacing, and evil smirk on her features. She walks up to her sister.

"If I am not to call you that...what shall I call you? You hate it when I call you Morgana..."

"No, I love it. I love being Morgana."

Morgan stares at her sister as the woman rises. She sees the wrapping around her hand. Ana has done something drastic in her presence. "Morgana...what have you done?"

Ana smiles to her sister, she rises. Her steps are hard. She is dressed, her attire pressed and perfect. "I have gotten on your level sister. I am finally free..."

Morgan's lips tremble."You performed an emotions spell."

"It had to be done. I was getting too involved. I had to be more focused. The time to strike is upon us sister. The stars have spoken of our triumph."

Morgan looks down, her eyes indifferent, her arms crossed. She does not like this, messing with ones emotions is dangerous. She quirks an eyebrow at Ana.

"Sister, I do not agree with what you've done but I understand the need to separate your emotions. I am having the same desire myself."

Ana walks over to the cupboard. She grabs two wine glasses and gets out the Port. She pours herself and her sister a glass. She hands her sister the wine. "Let me guess...you didn't bed your pet last night?"

Morgan grips the cup, her eyes dark. "I had a wonderful idea to seduce Gavin...to get him on the right page. I'm pretty sure what we did last night wouldn't qualify as shagging..."

Ana raised an eyebrow at her sister, Morgan almost chucks the glass.

"I'm pretty sure we made...love..." She growls the last word and she is met with the dark sound of laughter coming out of Ana's lips.

"What a foolish woman. Well I have something that will certainly cheer you up...after such a disastrous experience."

"Pray tell sister, I could use some good news." She takes a generous sip of the port...she will still act like a lady.

"It seems our dear Marty and Bradley are going on a trip to Scafell Pike...apparently Bradley's father has a cabin up there."

"Sounds boring. What will that do?"

"Bradley wants to tell Marty something important...and it might have something to do with their memories returning."

Morgan's head snaps at that. "What do you mean?"

"They know Morgan. And the time is upon us." She puts her glass down a little harder than necessary.

"What do you mean this is dreadful! If they know-"

"If they know then destroying them will be all the more sweeter. We are going to intercept their little meeting. I have a feeling it might have something to do with Mysak's research."

Morgan eye's her skeptically, then sighs. "Speaking of, Gavin has been doing some digging. He found some documents about Mysak's research. Apparently they're encrypted and the password changing every so often. He is working on them and the center of the device is a sword in a stone. We were right to suspect he was building a time traveling device."

"Do you trust what he says?"

"I trust it enough...Gavin may be a shady bastard, but he is not stupid."

"He's loyal to Arthur."

Morgan's head snaps. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the Gavin I know is named Gwaine and risked his life to save my idiot brother's. How do you know the man here is any different?"

Morgan is surprised that Ana had never told her this before. Morgan eyes her wine. "Then I guess he's just expendable. Once he's done with the research I will take care of him."

Ana and Morgan share an evil smile. "Pack your bags sister. We have a trip to take."

"We'll take my car."

Morgan looks at her sister skeptically. The woman was already on edge because her sister had done something crazy like extract her emotions from her body. Now she wants to drive? Yea that's safe.

"Why?"

"Because that brat, Marty Mysak, knows that it was your car near his father's house the night he died. Well not yours, but he knows it's a black car and seeing how you will never get rid of that black jag I assume it would be better he not figure out it was you."

Morgan eye's her sister. This change of attitude, she is not sure what to make of it.

"What makes you think I killed him?"

Ana smiles darkly at her sister. "Please Morgause...don't pretend I'm a fool. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Though that stupid boy seems to be in the dark, so maybe it does."

Her smirk is sinister, treacherous. Morgan eyes her. She has no one else she trusts as much as her sister - this situation is delicate.

"Come now don't be like that Morgause. I would never sell you out. In fact, if I had gone under this little transformation sooner I would have gladly helped."

Morgan doesn't know how she feels about that comment, but she shakes her head. "Perhaps you are right. I usually don't like guns, but it seemed appropriate. Almost poetic."

"Sounds like Homer didn't have anything on your stroke of genius sister."

They share a sly smirk. Morgan might just like this change in her sister, even if it feels false.

"Yes, anyway we must be off if we need to get to Scafell Pike. We can find out the location of this stupid cabin...his father's name is Anthony Pendleton, want to see a picture?"

Morgan pulls out a small picture from her briefcase and hands it to Ana, the woman's eyes flare up. "It is Uther!"

"The one and only..."

Ana eyes Morgan, the woman smirks. "I know in the past I told you to have patience with killing him...we'll I think that should change. If you truly have gone through this transformation, eliminating him should be no problem?"

Ana cocks an eyebrow. "It would be my pleasure." Her face is cruel in its twisted smile.

"Very good, we must wait a bit before we kill him. He is the head of a very powerful law firm and I need him alive for just a moment longer. When he is done with his project I will allow you to ring his neck personally."

Ana smiles as Morgan moves to get her keys. She tilts her head to the side, her eyes dark. "Oh and Morgan, that is a lovely mark you have on your neck. You should tell Gavin to go into painting."

Morgan whips around to her sister. "What did you say?"

"I mean it Morgause. I would almost think you love him the way you let his mouth brand you in such a way."

The sisters face off for a moment Ana smirking and Morgan seething. "It was an accident..."

"Right..."

Morgan's mind reels. Her sister has just made her a fool because of a stupid man. She will have to eliminate Gavin sooner rather than later and return that bloody concealer.


	32. Chapter 31: Off

Marty unbuckled his seatbelt after he opened the door. Pushing it away, he slid from his seat. The dark-haired man rested his hand against the car's frame he steadied himself. He figured he'd be all right if he didn't have the cramps in his legs. Seeing Bradley and Lance looking at him, he stuffed his hands in his pocket and meandered over to them.

The sullen man kept his head down. Even though Lance didn't know him, Marty remembered him. He remembered how close they had been. If he remembered, Marty was sure he'd be ashamed of him for taking the path he'd chosen. Standing there, feeling very awkward, Marty sneezed once. "Sorry," he whispered. "Detox." He hoped they understood what he was trying to explaining. Although even if they didn't understand what's going on with his fragile body, Marty didn't care.

"Oh and, uh, hey," he said to Lance. Marty looked at the bag Bradley had. It was stuffed and it appeared to have more things then he actually owned. "Thanks for getting my things. I guess." Marty looked up at Lancelot and tried to smile, but it fell.

He peered into the house. "Cool digs," he commented. Marty couldn't help himself. It reminded him of some spy movie, but it looked cozy.

Marty pulled his hands from his pocket and begin to nibble on his thumbnail. He had to do something with his hands or his arms started twitching. Marty hated it. He hated feeling as if he had to move all the time, but that was because of the detox he guessed. At least there was only one more day of this. He'd heard that after day 3 he'd feel like a new man. Marty sure hoped so.

When he was called, he nodded. "OK," muttered Marty. He went over to them and frowned. Marty crossed his arms over his chest. He glanced from Bradley to Lance. "Is this some kind of joke?"

The young man stepped forward and examined the red bike. "You lied," he said to the blonde-haired man. He then went to the gas tank and unscrewed the lid. "Needs filling." He then checked the oil and water. "Water's too full and oil's low."

Marty looked over at Lance. "Do you even know how to take care of a Vincent?" he asked. "Has it been run in a month? They're not meant to sit around. They'll get rusty! Key please." Marty held out his hand to the two men.

"I had been meaning to refuel it, give it an oil change and put more water it, but more pressing things had my attention. There's two full five gallon gas cans over there in the corner if you want to fill it up; there's also several gallons of water on the shelf over there." Lance pointed to the right, "as well as several quarts of oil."

Marty blinked, once, twice, and then a third time, slowly as he stared at Lancelot. "More water? There's too much in it as is! It's not a water lily. It doesn't live on water. You could damage the engine," Marty said.

Shrugging, Marty goes and gets a bottle of oil and one of the gas cans. Carrying one on each side of him, he carefully poured a bit of each in their respective spots. Checking the levels, he was satisfied and so, the young man put the caps back on. "There," He whispered after putting the things back.

When Marty then asked for the keys, Lance pointed an index finger towards Bradley, who caught the gesture.

When Lance pointed to Bradley, Marty turned his full attention to the blond-haired man. He held out his hand, which quivered a little bit. "Thanks," he said. Marty wrapped his hand around the key. It bit into his palm and the coolness of the metal felt nice. Content, Martin sighed.

"Oh thanks a lot." Bradley muttered to his partner. Reaching in to his pocket he withdrew his keys and took off the one key that he knew Marty would need.

Lance chuckled a little, taking the key from Bradley before joining Marty at the bike, handing the key to him moments later while Bradley went to stow Marty's backpack in the back of his father's vehicle.

"Do you need my help or does the man who defeats griffin's with ease not need help?" Lance asked. He does remember Marty...Merlin, only too well. All of the adventures they had together while serving then Prince Arthur; not to mention that first time when Lancelot saved the life of the bumbling servant boy by taking on the Griffin when it first attacked.

"No, I'm fine," Marty said. Then, he realized what Lance said. His back stiffened and for a moment, his mouth was agape. "I'm not going to drive it anywhere. I just want to check the engine. I'd crash the thing if I tried anything."

"He did mean well; Brady over there," Lance said, referring to Brad via his pet name that Lance had given him when they were in training together, "He only lied to you because I first lied to him about the bike. And...I know that you are probably anxious to ride it again after all this time but I really don't think it's such a good idea, especially in your current condition...Merlin."

He nodded. "I know. Of course I was upset about it…the lies, but who am I to judge? I've lived for years lying," Marty remarked.

Marty threw a leg over the motorcycle and sat down in the seat. He put the key in the starter and turned it. Instantly, the machine roared to life and then as it idled, it purred. "Perfect," he said, turning it off. Pulling the key off, he pocketed it.

"How long have you remembered? How much do you remember? I just started…last night. Right before I went to the bridge, it came back to me. Not all of it is back, though," asked Marty. "You must hate me. You must be repulsed and ashamed of me. You must detest me and what I've done."

"I started remembering things about two months ago. At first I didn't know what I was seeing because it all came in my nightmares. Then I started having blackouts in the day time. It was like I was back there...in Camelot. I saw you coming in with that forged Seal of Nobility; still can't believe that you did that for me," Lance chuckled, "I remember seeing you use your magic to take down the Griffin, for which I am eternally grateful. If you hadn't I wouldn't be standing here now; in fact no one from Camelot would be standing here now."

"I've been having flashes of memories for several months. It would happen when I was sleeping and I just thought they were dreams," Marty said. At the mention of what he had done, he shrugged. "You wanted to be a knight. You deserved to be one. It was the last I could do. It probably was the only thing I could've done." He shook his head. "You don't have to be…grateful. I was just helping my friends in a time of need. It was less scarier to face them then this experience was."

Martin sighed. "I do. I feel all of that towards myself. I should've been stronger! I used to be stronger. But, I guess, there's only so much a person can deal with before jumping," he said. "And I can't believe no one is yelling at me or slapping some sense in me. I don't deserve this trip. I don't."

He shook his head as he let his shoulders slumped. "It's all my fault. I guess I should've asked for help in the past. I just…buried it all inside. Big mistake, huh," he asked, raising his eyebrows a little. "I never was good at sharing."

It was easy work, getting the bike out of the storage unit and in to the sun. It wasn't so easy getting it strapped safely in to the small travel trailer because it was all but apparent Marty wasn't going to let anyone touch his bike.

Lance glanced at Bradley who was seated in the backseat of the Suburban fiddling with something that resembled a 9 mm pistol. He could just barely hear the remark; something about 'no firearms in the car.' Lance chuckled once more, seeing the look on his partner's face as he put the gun away.

"Marty, I know it's hard not to but don't judge yourself too harshly. It's always easier to see ones faults and weaknesses rather than ones accomplishments. It's destroyed a lot of good men, don't let it destroy you. You have a lot of people here and back in Camelot who care about you. They...we...don't care about what you did or did not do, we care about you."

"I can't help it! All the things I've done. All the death's I've caused, even to help my friends, keeps playing over and over in my head. I hate myself. I'm ashamed of some of it," Marty said. "It's too late…it's already destroyed me. Lancelot, I was going to jump off a bridge last night! I even tried to hide from Arthur because I knew he'd try to stop me. I didn't want stopped."

"Your drug usage, what you did to Morgana...it doesn't matter. The fact that you are still beating yourself up over it shows you to be a man of great worth and feeling. Don't let what happened change you Merlin; stay the good man you are," Lance said, emphasizing his last word.

Marty pushed the bike onto the trailer. "Sure it does. It does matter. What I did to her, it made her who she is now. What I've done has turned me into who I am," he said, latching the bike into place. He sure didn't want it rolling off the back of the trailer and crashing in a ditch. "It's too late, Lance. It already has."

Glancing at Anthony and Bradley, Lance said, "I think they are ready to go; just waiting on you."

Marty places one hand on the handles and the other hand on the seat, he rolled the bike out. It took a while, but he managed. "I've got it," said Marty repeatedly.

He looked at the car and nodded. "Yeah. See ya," he whispered. Marty climbed into the car. Buckling up, he rested his cheek against the window and stared forlornly out of it.


	33. Chapter 32: Candygram

Rothay Garden Hotel is just seven miles away from Scafell Pike. Ana sat in their room, the curtains hanging open as she stares out into the abyss. Her fingers curl around the ledge as the soft fog moves over the grass. The morning has been moist and foreboding. The sorceress smirks. She brings her hand up. The blood stone shines underneath her clothes. She fingers the gem. She had it turned into a necklace so she could keep it with her. The deep red is powerful against the soft silver chain.

Morgan sleeps peacefully behind Ana. The file on Anthony Pendleton sits on the table, opened. The sisters had thumbed through it last night. Morgan seemed to have all the information on the man, from his financial records all the way down to his shoe size. She had been very through. The case he seemed to be working on had something to do with the educational system. He was about to make the city a lot of money. So for now Ana would leave the man alone.

She walks back into the room. She sits at the desk as Morgan stirs. Words are not passed between the women as Morgan takes her complimentary 30 minutes showering, blowing her hair dry, and putting her make-up on. She is perfect as always. Her manicured beauty matching her sisters.

"What is the plan today Ana?"

The younger woman looks at the file, her smirk dark and powerful. "I think your pet is keeping something from us."

Morgan raises a sharp eyebrow at her sister. "Oh? What could he be hiding?"

"His information does not make sense. I've never heard of any program that changes the password every few months. That would be beyond sophisticated."

"Well Basil was a brilliant man."

"Yes, in science, not computers. I think you are missing the reality. Your pet is very good with computers. He could be changing the passwords himself."

Morgan's fingers squeeze her arms. Her breath becomes deep and harsh. To think Gavin is betraying her. "You think he is a traitor?"

"I think he is a man and a stupid one. If the knights are getting their memories back then he would have more reason to keep this information from you. He might have even given Basil's research to my dear loving brother."

Morgan watches as Ana picks petals off of the complimentary roses in their room. Morgana is many things...emotional is not one of them. "I will not assume anything until I have proof that he is betraying me."

"Aren't your own suspicions enough?"

Morgan eye's the blood stone that is nestled safely on Ana's collarbone. Her white shirt unbuttoned showing off just enough of her chest to be alluring and not provocative. Even their casual wear is Gucci and Prada. "As that may be, I just want to be sure. Gavin has his uses."

Ana nods. Her fingers run over the file. Her eyes roll at her sister's ignorance. The younger woman stands and walks over to her two inch Burberry shoes and slips the black leather on. Her tight black pants and button up shirt make her look so high fashioned and powerful. Morgan looks down at her own attire, the sharp brown pants and cream colored blouse make her look so much softer next to the hard lines of her sister.

"I think we should take a trip sister. I have an address here and two very stupid men awaiting our arrival."

Morgan stood next to Ana's car tapping her foot and waiting her sister. Why they had taken separate vehicles she will not understand. She hears the sound of a motorcycle and rolls her eyes as her sister pulls up on her BMW K 1200 black motorcycle. Her tight black leather jacket makes her look like the absolute badass that she is. Morgan watches as Ana takes her helmet off. Her hair swishes around and falling perfectly over her shoulders, I guess magic can even take care of helmet hair...

"Have a good ride?"

Ana smiles towards her sister, her look dark and sinister. "Always."

They face each other and Morgan quirks her eyebrow. "What are we doing here sister? I believe they have left."

"Yes, I can't sense their presence. I'm not sure where they would have gone, but they should be back."

They walk over to the pavement. Ana leans down and smiles wickedly. "He has the bike."

"What?"

Morgan walks over to her sister, and looks down at the skid mark. Both women share a devious grin. "Well...that makes our lives a little easier."

Morgan walks towards the house, her fingers holding onto the knob. "Oscail"

The spell causes the lock to click open and both women proceed into the house. The house was dull to say the least. Morgan would expect something more interesting from a high class lawyer like Anthony Pendleton. She walks over to the bags that have been thrown carelessly on the coach. Ana is in the kitchen, moving around the cabinets looking for anything that could help them. Morgan does the same with the bags. Her fingers opens and closes zippers, making sure to leave no trace on them. She searches for a few minutes, until her fingers shake at the bag she opens. Ana looks over, sensing her sister's distress. How boring. She supposes she is supposed to feel something for her sister. She just can never find it in herself lately. Probably has to do with the blood stone. Ana can feel it burn on her chest.

"What's wrong Morgan?" She watches in amusement as her sister's teeth clench. Her eyes start to glow."Morgan..."

"Your right, he lied."

Ana suddenly looks at her puzzled. Morgan holds up the folder, and Ana's eyes light up. A smile comes to her features. "Ah...so your pet wasn't heeling when you told him too?"

"No," Morgan growls. Her fingers clench the documents. Ana saunters over, grabbing the papers.

"I think we have what we need right now. Why don't you take them back to the hotel? We'll look through them later. I'm gonna take a quick ride to celebrate our victory."

Morgan nods, her mind reeling. How dare he betray her? He will live to regret this. Morgan arrives back at the hotel, the papers thrown haphazardly on the bed. She paces for a few moments. Her mind reeling. That Gavin, GAVIN, would betray her. She sits on the bed for a moment. Her thoughts are swirling. Her sister is gone. She is alone...completely alone. She takes a deep breath and looks towards the ceiling. Her walls breaking and tears come. They feel hot as they stream down her cheeks, branding her flesh to show off her shame. She does not sob but allows the tears to flow, wetting the collar of her jacket, and running down her neck. It only lasts for a few moments, but it is longest Morgan has ever allowed herself to be vulnerable. She catches her breath, and composes herself. She walks over to the mirror, taking a minute to fix her make-up and dry her shirt. She walks over to her purse, opening the Prada and pulling out her smartphone. She quickly dials his number and brings the cell to her ear.

"Come now Gavin pick up..."

Gavin was stretched out lengthwise on his couch. In the crook of one arm was a bowl of popcorn. On the TV was 'Sleepless in Seattle'. Next would be 'When Harry Met Sally' and then to end the night he'd watch 'You've Got Mail'.

"Kid has guts," he muttered as the boy gets on the plane to fly off across the country. He nodded approvingly. What he was doing was something Gavin would have tried - he still would have.

Hearing the phone, he sighed. Without looking at the caller ID, Gavin picked it up. "Sparrow and Sparrow agency of specialness, how may I help you? Sparrow speaking," he said.

Gavin stopped speaking when he heard Morgan. "Hey. You call so soon. Are you already ready for round two?" he asked. "Do you want to come and watch some chick flicks with me? I got the classics!"

"Sounds lovely. Be there in twenty."

As she flipped her phone shut the door to their hotel opened, Ana walked in, a smile on her face.

"You seem overly pleased with yourself."

Morgan smiles as she walks over to the pile of papers. "I'm leaving, Ana. I assume you can handle things for a while. I have an appointment with a bird, and he has an appointment with my pistol."

Ana eyes her sister, her smirk becomes dark and mystifying. "So you're finally going to take care of that wretched song bird after all? Here, I thought you had gone soft on me."

Morgan smiles to her sister. "Oh dear, then I must change your opinion of me sister. I am going to pop over there."

"You do realize how far away it is don't you?"

Morgan rolls her eyes and gives Ana a pointed look. The younger woman's laughter is sinister and cruel. Morgan moves over to her closet and changes her cloths, she pulls on her tight red dress, the sleeves coming down to her delicate wrists, the intricate design on the top a soft gray sheer. It reaches down to her mid thighs, the dress is tight and alluring. Ana eyes her appearance, a look of approval settles over the woman's features. She quickly latches the medium sized silver hoops to her ears, the simple star pendent sits high on her neck and three diamond bangles rest easily on her wrists. Her hair falling down in its curly natural state.

"Morgan, here." She hands her a pair of gray one-inch alligator skin strappy heels. Morgan accepts them, a smirk settling on her features.

"Thank-you sister. This is quite generous."

Her make-up is light but sharp. Her legs long and on display, her skin lightly tanned. She glosses her lips as she turns to her sister.

"What do you wish to do with the papers sister?" Ana inquires.

Morgan looks at the documents, she walks over to the pile and puts her hand over the stack. "Cóipeáil"

The documents shimmer and double. Morgan smiles to her sister. Ana's eyes glow. Glee settling into her emotionless features. She takes the extra stack. Morgan goes to her sister and they hug, Morgan kissing her cheek.

"Do not wait up Ana." The younger woman smiles.

"I will suppress the urge."

Morgan smiles as she gathers the documents and put them into her purse. Usually she would get her small purse, but this one she will just hold behind her as she enters Gavin's. Theyman is always so distracted by a pair of good legs and she has great legs.

"Iompar dó"

Ana watches as her sister disappears.

Morgan appears at Gavin's door. She takes out her key and settles it into the lock turning her ridiculous key. She steps in, dropping her purse to the side. Her bracelets clanging and her shoes tap on the wood at his entrance. She spots him and her eyes darken. She leans back on one leg, hand on her hip, her hair falling back to show back her long neck.

"Candy gram for my favorite little bird."


	34. Chapter 33: An Unexpected Twist

Gavin looked at his phone and saw Bradley calling. "Something's wrong," he whispered. The young man stood. He was just pulling on a jacket when Morgan entered. Seeing how she was dressed, his mouth falls open.

"Hey, bud, I'll catch ya later. Something just came up," Gavin said into the phone. He didn't know if Bradley heard him or not, but right now he didn't care. The detective had a flower to tend to right then and there.

Gavin goes over to her. "My my…you look mighty fine. What did I do to have to pleasure of seeing you in this little thing," he said. The man reached over and placed a hand on her hip. Gently, he pulled her closer. "Although, I must declare you are a little too dolled up for movies and popcorn. You could've just worn those delectable jeans of yours – the ones that hug you in all the right places – and that lovely purple shirt."

Morgan's eyes are dark. Her hands run over his chest and up to his neck as he pulls her close. She kisses his neck. Her fingers run through his hair; she even musters up a purr of happiness. She bites her lip in the most alluring manner.

Gavin runs his fingers through her hair. He leans close and breathes in slowly. His nose whistles with the effort. "My...my, your hair smells clean and it's so soft! Did you change shampoos? You usually have an herbal scent to your hair. This has a more of a jasmine vanilla aroma. It is delectable!"

"Oh Gavin...you've been so good lately I thought we could have some fun tonight...considering how amazing you were the other night."

He holds her out at arm's length. "I have," he asked. His eyebrow cocks a little bit. Morgan never compliments him. It feels nice, but very odd and quite nice. He scratches his head and shrugs a little bit. With a happy smile, he takes off his coat, throws it onto a chair, and sits down beside her.

"But, you know me, always the one to serve. Although, you usually don't dole out compliments so readily. Is it my birthday and I forgot," the dark-haired man asked, batting his eyelashes at her as he continued to grin at her.

She moves away from him and walks over his coach. She sits down. That stupid grin on his face causes her to rage. She shows none of this. She will destroy him tonight. She sits on his coach, her legs crossing, her dress riding up. She gives him her best lust filled look. "Come play with me my favorite little bird?"

"Ooo...a game? Can we play charades," Gavin asks. His eyes light up with playfullness. "Please?" The detective took Morgan's hands in his and played with her thin fingers.

He figured that would probably annoy her to no end - his suggestion that is. A lot of his ideas tended to annoy her, but he didn't care. He liked to ruffle her feathers a little and be playful. It kept things interesting, especially since most of what he said was off-the-wall.

She looks at him from underneath her eyelashes. Her look is beyond alluring. She has to stop herself from slapping him. Hid mindless chatter irritating her more than usual, but instead of telling him as she normally does, she just smiles. She needs him happy, off guard. She runs her hand up and into her hair, scratching at the base of his neck.

"Charades huh? Are you sure that's the route you want to go tonight Gavin?"

Her other hand comes up to play with the base of his shirt. Her fingers dip under the fabric. She resists the urge to scratch at his stomach and make him bleed. She will have time for that later. She needs to break him down first. She doesn't want to use her magic in front of him, but if it came down to it she would. She will have her revenge tonight. She leans close to him. Her desire to slap him is suppressed by her urge to humiliate him when she finally has him at her mercy. She hovers close to him. Her lips a breath away.

"I'm sure you can think of something more fun for us to do...can't you song bird?"

The rogue reaches over and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. He pushes it behind her ear. As he drops his hand away from her ear, he slides a finger down her jaw line and her neck. With the other hand, he pulls her to him again so that his abs were pressed so tightly against the coldness and smoothness of her slicky dress there was just a thin line between the two of them.

He gives her a grin. "Oh yeah, Charades," Gavin murmured as he pressed his cheek against her so that he could whisper in her ear. "I am positive that's the route we should take. Oh yes."

Gavin kisses her earlobe and then her cheek. Finally his lips settle against her. "I think you'll have plenty of fun, Daffodil. My version is a little different. You know strip poker? It's just like that, but without the cards," Gavin replies. His lips flutter against hers as he talks.

Her eyebrow quirks. He really is a fool. When he presses her against him she allows it, as if she is "melting" into him. How, how dull. She runs her hand up his arm and into his hair. She even musters up a soft purr of approval for affect. She wants to reach out and bite at him when his face settles so close to hers. She simmers her look of disgust and smiles in a seductive manner.

At the mention of the game her eyes light up and the alluring, evil, smile on her face grows. A delicious thought pops into her mind. She runs her fingers up and into his hair, bringing him closer through the already small distance. Her tongue comes out to lick his lip.

"That actually does sound like fun."

"Oh, I thought it might. The winner chooses what item comes off. Be waned, I like it slow and you have a lot of jewelry on. It might take all night, but oh it'll be worth it," he said. He wrinkled his nose up in a playful matter.

She kisses him once. The force she puts behind it almost, almost, makes her heart distressed for what she will do to him. She moves from him. Her fingers teasing his chin as she walks over to his table, grabbing a chair without arms and placing it in front of him.

Gavin smirked a bit as he releases Morgan. He doesn't want the climax to be now. No, it was supposed to come at the end. He nods and raises an eyebrow out of pleasure.

"Come sit, I have a few rules of my own." She tilts her head for effect. Her long neck exposed as her hair drops to the side.

He watched as she brought a chair out. His smile drops into a frown and then he shrugs. "All right. I'm adaptable. I'll go with the flow. Whatever tickles your fancy, I'll do it," Gavin said as he went over to the chair.

"You like props, eh? You're quirky. I like that," he states. "Now…what are we going to do with it?"

Morgan chuckles and quirks an eyebrow. The frown on his face should distress her more but she just loves this, him squirming. Props?...oh poor little song bird. He just has everything wrong doesn't he? She walks over to her back to retrieve the rope and she holds it behind her back in secret. She motions for the chair.

"My rules are going to be even simpler than, you will sit when it is my turn. And you are not allowed to touch me in any form while I go, not matter how much I might ask you too."

"There's no touching in charades," Gavin pointed out. He blinks a few times as he looks at Morgan. He's not quite sure what she was up to however, he didn't really care. The investigator then stares at the chair. This should be interesting. "So, I can keep my hands to myself."

Her eyes are dark and destructive, but she bites her lip in hopes of turning her look into seductive. She runs a hand down over her dress and plays with her hem, giving him a taste of what he will receive if he listens to her. Her head tilts to the side. A tempting smirk comes onto her features.

"Can you handle my rules Gavin? If you do, I might just scream your name tonight."

He grins at her. "Of course I can," Gavin said. The man nodded. As a strand of hair falls into his eyes, he flicks it away with a finger.

"Because I am a gentleman in rogue's clothing, I fully believe that ladies…well lady first," Gavin remarked. He bowed to Morgan and then went over to the chair. Sitting down, he crossed his legs. "It's your turn, Daffodil."

She grabs his hands before he has a moment to blink her hands moving swiftly as she secures them with the rope. She leans close to his cheek. Her breath hot on his cheek. Her eyes menacing.

"Good boy Gavin. You know how I hate to be disobeyed."

She growls the last part as she kisses his chin and then softly licks as the base of his throat. She suppresses the urge to bite him. She will have time for that later. She holds the rope for a moment, her eyes going gold. She does not need a spell when her instincts simply secure the threads. She walks away from him, grabbing the folder roughly from her bag. She is ready for this ready to make him pay.

His toothy smile drops into another frown as she ties him. "Hey! You don't have to do that! I would've kept my promise," Gavin muttered. "And I agreed not to touch you."

There was a loophole in that. He could kick her back, but Gavin wouldn't do that. Nope, never. He wouldn't hurt a woman, even if a woman could hurt him. He was to polite and too a gentlemen. Besides, he didn't like getting physical like that. The few times he'd been in a fight, Gavin had spent the time darting and weaving. He'd never made a punch. The guy didn't plan on ever giving a hit either.

"I forgot to tell you Gavin, I have a present for you."

"Oh goody," Gavin says with sarcasm. He rolls his eyes and then continues to look at Morgan with an unimpressed look on his face.

She walks in front of him while she speaks. She throws the folder at him, the sheets falling all over the room. The images and words from Basil Mysak cascade down to the floor. She pushes the chair back onto its back legs, one arm squeezing his jean covered thigh the other pushing at his shoulder. Her eyes are dark and powerful. Her smirk evil and vicious. "I would starting singing, song bird."

He finally tares his eyes away from Morgan as he watches them fall. A slight smirk is on his face. "They aren't mine. Those are copies. Mine had watermarks...those don't," he begins. "Besides, why do you need them when I told you what was in them? They are, by far, the dullest piece of reading material I've ever laid eyes on."

He looked back at Morgan. "What else do you want me to say? That I have direct orders to give anything pertaining to Dr. Mysak to the police? That I'm just doing my job...no questions asked? That I'm following two sets of orders and sometimes it's really hard to sort out the requests? Cos, I can say all of that, Daffodil, and more."

She smirks at him. As his chair drops, her eyes look him over and her arms cross. He thinks he is so clever...so on top of his game.

"Oh Gavin...I distinctly remember you telling me that you couldn't get this information for me yet. That it would take...what was the word time? Besides, I know these aren't yours, lover."

He nods a little. "Well, yeah. I did need more time. I wasn't lying. My boss hates me to waste paper. He didn't even like those printed. I had to figure out a way to make a second copy without getting my arse kicked to the street. There's like 500 pages," Gavin said. "No...mine had a watermark on them from the office. They really aren't mine. I haven't had time to make copies of them."

She moves over him. Her arms coming around his shoulders as she straddles him on the chair. She pulls at his hair, pulling his head back. Her face coming close to his ear.

"It's his case, too. Remember, we're working on a couple mysteries together. What he does and doesn't do with things is none of my business. Besides, he's more with it then you could ever imagine."

"My sister has the originals. You should be careful who you leave them with...your friend Bradley isn't the best security, he is a moron. You don't even know the full extent of what you found do you?"

He stares at the papers. "Err...the world's best sleep aid? I tried to read it and fell sound asleep. What I know of those papers is what I told you," he said. Gavin was bing honest.

She finally gives into the urge to bite his neck. Then slowly suck until there is a deep purple mark on his flesh. She releases his hair, her teeth bared.

She growls at him, he is so deluded. "I told you Gavin, my sister has the originals. You said it would take time; the password was changing so you could only get so far. Do you really think me so stupid? Do you really think you can talk your way out of this?"

"Did I also mention I hate it when you brand me?"

"No, you didn't. Besides, you seemed to like it last night. Now, why don't you untie me and I'll make sushi? I bought seaweed!" Gavin exclaims.

Her mind is numb. Her breath coming out in short sharp pumps. She rolls her eyes, her teeth are bared. He is so infuriating; it takes all herself control to not blow up the window.

"You already told me about the sword being a time machine. Well, let me fill you in, song bird. It's not just a time machine. It's a gateway to a world you can never imagine, a time your small insignificant brain could not comprehend. You are so daft sometimes I really wonder why I sleep with you at all."

She slaps him as he makes the comment about the sushi. Her hands fists his shirt."Is this a game to you? Does this mean nothing? You are not innocent in this Gavin. I know you aren't. Do you think I'm blind to what you do behind closed doors? Do you actually think I trust you? I am more powerful than you can imagine...and I know all about your attempt to stab me in the back."

"I heard you. You also said that those were mine," he nods to the papers. "Of course I don't think you are daft. The password was changing. You might not know this about me, but I know some computer programming. I invented the system that changed the password. I just don't know how to deactivate it. I only had the papers less than a day before Bradley got them."

He smirked, but didn't say anything. Gavin thought he might be able to talk himself out of the situation. He'd been a hostage before. He'd had to calm erratic criminals. He'd even gone into bomb-filled buildings and got psychopaths to surrender. Three even been shot twice and still got a robber into custody. This was nothing. In fact, this was his time to shine.

She stands up then, letting his chair fall to the ground with a thud. Her body shakes, her lip trembles. "I am not one of your low leveled sluts that you have so much parading around with. I am better than them. I will not fall for your charm, Gavin."

Feeling the chair fall, he raises his head a little. He didn't want his cranium to make contact with the floor. it would hurt. He might also black out and Gavin sure did not need that.

"How many women do you really think I am sleeping switch right now? One. You. You are special, Daffodil. You are a goddess...not the s word," Gavin replied. He would never call her that term. He actually liked her too much to use it, although he would never call any woman that. It was vulgar.

Gavin's mouth opened wide. His eyes are wide and bright. He is like a kid. "Cool!" Gavin exclaimed. A slight frown forms as she slaps. He doesn't say anything. Now was not the time.

"No, it isn't. But, what is this 'this' you speak of?" Gavin said. He shrugged. "You know me, I am just doing my job."

He smiles at her. "What do you think the answer is? Personally, I think you want to even though you know I can expose any misdeed you have told me. I think do or you would not have told me so much," Gavin replied. "And I think you have misjudged me. The password changes monthly. I told you what I knew, which was not a lot. The documents, I had them for less then a day. I got them after we had dinner the other night. All truths. Now, let me go."

She pulls him back up off the floor, she is much stronger than she looks. Her looks is hard, but his words break her a little. Sheassumed he was fooling around. Though can she trust that? Is anything coming out of his mouth truthful? She faces away from him as he speaks, her hip pops. Shedoesn't know how to react to his words.

She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes when he shouts; he truly is such a child sometimes. She runs her hand over her face. Her body trying to comprehend what he is saying. Her brain trying to filter through the words he says and her sister whispering in her ear. He is a liar Morgause. Areyou truly so blind?

She moves from him to walk towards the window, her mind reeling. She takes a moment before she turns around again. Her eyes hard and calculating. She slowly saunters over to him. Her finger coming out to play with the collar of his shirt. Her nails grazing over his skin. Her mind filters to so many nights she allowed him in. He is the only man she crosses the line between control and pleasure. Does that make him special? She can't, won't, answer that. Her finger pulls at his shirt, the first few buttons popping open. Her nails grazes over his hard pectoral. Her eyes becoming soft if even for second. Her sharp blue eyes look into his dark brown. Were they always so playful?

Her voice is almost a whisper as she speaks. "'This'..." She trails off, not allowing herself to finish her thought, to justify exactly what has been going on between her and the special agent. She doesn't know what to say suddenly her mind becoming blank. She doesn't even hear the last part about the password. You have misjudged me...

She looks down at him, her eyes clouded. Her thoughts have become a jumbled mess. "I have misjudged you Gavin. For a moment I foolishly thought you were loyal to me."

She looks at him from under her long eyelashes. His words feeling hot against her skin. She doesn't know why she wants to trust him, but she does. A part of her doesn't want this to just be what it is. But,her feelings are insignificant. The reality of his betrayal feels like hot irons against her flesh. They do not matter. Her eyes narrow at him.

"You know how much I hate it when you order me around song bird."

Gavin's eyes widen a little as she raises him from the floor. He then sighs in relief. He didn't really like laying there. It was uncomfortable. His hands had gotten cramped, the back of the chair bit into his shoulders, and his neck had started to spasm.

"If you don't believe me about the girls, check my phone's directory. You'll find three women listed – my mother, my grandmother, and you. That's it," he assured her. "You'll also find listing for several members of the police, a church, a bakery, a tailor, and a few local bands. All of those are labeled by their company titles."

He raised his eyebrows. "I am loyal to you, in many ways, but I'm also loyal to my job. I think you understand that. I'm a no questions asked type of guy. I do what I need to do," Gavin said.

Gavin smirks. "I know. I don't do it too often, do I? I have another order. This one you may or may not like. Look in the top drawer where I keep all the dishtowels. Feel towards the back and under them. There's a little velvet box. I wasn't ready to ask you, but my dearest Daffodil, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"


	35. Chapter 34: The Answer

His words wash over her, she is in shock. How could he do this? How could he mess up the perfection of what they had together? She rushes from his suddenly, ripping open the drawer and her fingers shuffling around. She freezes when her fingers come in contact with a small box. Her hand trembles as she pulls it from its confines. It really is there, a small black box.

She sneaks a peek at him, that stupid grin on his face. Her body shakes as she opens the box. A magnificent white gold ring sits in the center. _Is this Tiffany's?_ She pulls the ring out and slips it on her finger, taking a moment to admire the small diamonds secured in the princesses setting of the ring…how did she miss this? She shouldn't trust this, she should see right through his ploy. He is playing her…he has to be…but she can't help it. In the back of her mind Morgan is still just a woman…in love with an idiot of a man.

She stomps over to him, her stride strong, her eyes dark. She suddenly realizes how beneficial it would be to be married to Gavin. Not only is he handsome…he would have more loyalty to her than he should….because that is why she is saying yes. _Yea ok…_her inner voice mocks her. She stands over him, her stance proud and strong. She has not more words suddenly. She can't help the emotions she has suppressed. She falls again into a straddle over his hips, grabbing at his hair and kissing him hungrily. Her other hand pulling at the rope, the thread falling as she kisses him. She pulls back from him for only a moment before she attacks him again with her mouth.

"Yes."

What if she hated him for asking? This moment was scarier than the pseudo hostage situation. "I have had it for a week or two. Lasagna night was a kind of test run. I wanted to see how it worked. I wanted to see how it felt. I thought it went pretty good," muttered Gavin. "I've been working on the details for about a month. I've found this gorgeous dress shop with the perfect dress for you. It's Burbury. It's white and pleated and has sparkles at the waist..." he trailed off, unsure what to say next.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "I designed it myself. I wanted it different from all the sparkly rings you already had. I wanted it special, like you, Daffodil."

He backs as she strides over to him. Is she going to slap him, he wasn't sure. He is surprised by the kisses, but goes with it. When he hears her answer, his lips spread into a grin. "Game over? Can I touch you now, my lovely fiancé," he asked.

She has freed his hands, her own running over his shirt. She cannot help herself, she pulls from him for a moment, to look down into his deep chocolate irises. Her mind suddenly reminding her why this is not a good idea. Morgan is many things...but adulterous she is not. If she agrees to this...it will be the end. She will truly not be able to manipulate men as she has in the past. Her relationship with Gavin will be on the lines...and she suddenly feels very keen to keep him in her hip pocket. She pulls away from him, if only a breath. Gavin is many things...but stupid he is not.

"Gavin...if I agree to this there are rules." She brings her face close to nuzzle at his neck and up to his ear, her breath hot on his lobe.

"I am still a powerful woman, I will use what I've done in the past against the men I work for now. You know I always get what I want by any means necessary..."

She nips at his neck, her tongue coming out to lick at the lobe."I promise to never stray from you from this moment onward...but I will always use my past actions to get ahead. Can you handle such a ruthless woman," her hands roaming over his chest as she sits back to look at him from under her dark eyelashes, "my delicious fiancé?"

"What do you think? Do you think I would have stayed around for so long or spent so much time planning this if I couldn't handle it," he asked. He raised an eyebrow and cocks his head. "I'm a strong guy, so I need just as strong of a woman at my side."

He cleared his throat. "But, understand I will have to do my job, as I have in the past. If the police ask for documents, I will have to hand them over. What they do with them...that's their business," he replied.

"What you do during your office hours that is not up to me. I can't report what I can't hear or see. So, we should have a no business in the flat clause," Gavin remarked. "Right?"

She smirks at him, her song bird saying all the right things. She can't help the overwhelming emotion that washes over her...her eyes lidded and aroused.

"I'm surprised your asking permission Gavin...I normally can't make you keep your hands to yourself." She kisses him softly, "You can touch me." Her mouth connects with his, her lips trembling in desire.

He is so handsome in this moment...he who knows all of her but still loves her. She runs her fingers over the opening in his shirt, running up and over his collar bone, her nails digging into his shoulder. She kisses him again, her fingers running through his hair.

"Do you love me, Gavin?"

She kisses his jaw, her hands running over him. She is suddenly finding herself possessive, wanting him to admit his vulnerability to her. That he belongs to her and will not stray. That he is not just marrying her, she knows many people who marry for gain. She wants to know that she holds her song bird because of his affections. He holds you because of yours...she scowls at the voice inside of her mind.

Her head tilts when she thinks about the dress, wondering exactly what he is playing at. Her hair cascades down the side, giving him a front row view of her softly tanned neck.

"When exactly do you want to marry me Songbird? You seem to even have my dressed picked out...not that I particularly mind but you have seemed to have thought this through."

"Well, we were playing a game and one of those rules was no touching," he mused. His voice is deep and husky."And when it comes to playing games…I follow the rules." Gavin moves his hands and plants them on her hips. Gently, he pivots her around so that her legs straddled his instead of being tossed over his lap. He then pulled her closer and pressed his torso with hers.

Gavin kisses back. It is long and passionate, but not filled with spit. Spit-filled kisses were gross in his opinion. As he caresses her lip, he nibbles on her bottom lip for a second. As she asks the questions, He peers down at her – his eyes are dark and intense, but also playful and filled with mirth. In other people, it would been alarming and confusing because those looks were contradictory, but for Gavin it worked due to his personality and his job.

"What do you think? Do flowers bloom? Does rain fall? Is there a pot o' gold at the end of a rainbow? Yes, of course I do. I wouldn't have asked you," Gavin scoffs in a playful tone. "There aren't a many things I take seriously, but marriage is something I do. I don't think someone should marry unless there is love. Do you love me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't have everything picked out! There's still flowers, music, food, the bridesmaids gowns, the church, the decorations, the cake! Oooo…there was a lovely lemon poppy seed cake with cream cheese icing at this one bakery. We ought to go and try it out. They also have a delectable red velvet cake and a marble cake. Maybe we could have cupcakes?"

"I love weddings! I considered being a wedding planner before settling on being a detective," he tells her. He grins and then kisses her neck, jaw, and cheek.

She cocks her eyebrow at him, she didn't know why she expected a straight answer when it came to Gavin...but of course he just had to be...himself about the situation. She smirks when he asks her if she loves him. She doesn't answer him, wondering if her lack of response would annoy him...though knowing her song bird he would just smile happily and accept her silence...there really is no fun unless he works for it honestly...

Her arms tighten around him as he kisses her, the sensuality of the moment fueling Morgan's desires. She runs her fingers through his hair and playing with the scruff on his chin, almost scratching him like a dog as he worships her mouth.

Morgan rolls his eyes when he starts talking about the wedding. "You know Gavin if you keep talking like that I might have to question your sexuality..."

She runs her hand over his shirt, her fingers settling between their bodies to play with the helm, her fingers dipping underneath the fabric every so often to play with the hair located on his belly button. She suppresses the warm feeling that encompasses her as he sweetly kisses her neck, jaw and cheek, the action suddenly making her blush like a...virgin...she brings her arms around his neck and scratches at his hair softly with her nails.

"I don't want anything big, just something quiet. Honestly if we can get away with it I'd really only like to invite my sister, though I can see you wanting your policemen boys there." She kisses his cheek and right behind her ear as she whispers. "I want red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, I want dark red and silver as our color scheme if were going to have a reception...though I would prefer we don't because I will be too busy dragging you into a hall closet after we say 'I do.'" She nips at his ear to emphasize what she's implying.

Gavin grinned at Morgan. Oh, how much fun it is to tease her! He's just being playful. Gavin did answer her question, she just has to riddle it out if she really wants to. When Morgan doesn't answer, he pouts. "Oh, come on," Gavin said. His eyes then light up. "I'll tickle of out of you." Sure enough, he tickles her sides.

After a minute, he stops and en kisses her on the lips again. He runs his hands up her hips, around the curve of her waist, and then rests his large hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he begins to rub them.

At the comment about his sexuality, he shrugs. "I am perfectly confident and comfortable with who I am," he replies. "and I like who I like as well as love who I love." he taps Morgan on the nose and then kisses her forehead. "Now, shall we eat sushi? I'm starved."

"Whatever you say. Is 12 too many? I should invite my boss as well as the guys I work with at the force," he asked . "Mmm...sounds good! A small reception - two hours, tops...just enough for smacking and eating and cake." Gavin chuckles at the nip. "I will be more lively with food so a small reception is a must, eh?" He winks at her as he speaks.

She slowly moves off of him and walks towards his island. She turns around, her hair falling to one side. She jumps up onto one of his stools and crosses her legs in the most alluring fashion. She couldn't last much longer with him assaulting her sides...or rubbing her back. The man was really too good with his hands.

"Gavin come now, you haven't said those three special words so why the hell should I?" It is meant to be a taunt...if her toy wished to play her than she will surely return the favor. He has already gotten everything too easily, she will not give in to this, he must say those words first.

She sits at the island, her fingers ghosting over the linoleum...for a moment she is reminded how much lower Gavin is to her on the social class, how he is just a cop and she a Chief Executive. The title should mean more to her...but when it comes to this blasted man she cannot find it in herself to care. She pops her hip to the side, giving him a delicious view of her backside.

"Well I am famished...and sushi does sound delectable right now...you know that fish is an aphrodisiac right fiancé?" She takes a moment to contemplate his words, the idea actually intriguing her. Morgan, as most would suspect, would want a big wedding. The fact is the woman likes things low key, she wants to just say 'I do' with as little to no hassle as possible. She sighs dramatically, her head tilting.

"Gavin, I agree with your number, we only have two problems." She looks around his apartment, "I want to know when, preferably as soon as possible, and I want to know where we live...because I'm sorry you know I am a penthouse type of girl. I demand luxury...I know you can't afford that but I have established a life at the top. I'd like to keep it there."

"Oh, I have, you just have to read between the lines," Gavin replies. He grins at her. He loves to play. He loves to taunt and banter. It's fun! It's harmless.

He pulls out the rice, the asparagus, the mushrooms, the seaweed, and the fish (fresh tuna and salmon). He pours rice and water into a pot and then turns on the stove. After getting the rice cooking, he sautés the vegetables.

"Hmm…it seems like I heard about that. I don't need an aphrodisiac right now though. Just seeing and smelling you scent awakens me," he said. To demonstrate, Gavin leans forward. He breathes in deeply, his eyes close, and he moans. "Oh, yes."

Gavin watches her as she speaks. "Well, the cake, flowers, music, and food needs ordered. You need to try on your dress or choose a different one. We need to inform our family and friends, but with Facebook everyone could know in an hour," he jokes. "But, I think a week should do it."

He looks around the apartment. The place was supposed to be temporary when he moved in, but that had been two years ago. "Well, um…would you like to live at your place? Or do you want to look for a new home? I'm not picky. I just want to bring my sofa." It was a super stylish piece – red leather and very angular – but also very comfortable.

She cocked her head to the side as he talked. One of her finely manicured eyebrows raises as he speaks of his 'between the lines' bull. How boring he is...her smirk turns devious."Oh Gavin what lines? We all know that the only depth to you words is about as deep as a puddle."

She shrugs her shoulders in a bored manner. "A man who has to make me play games with him dull, you know I like it better when you are straightforward with me."

She runs her hands over his back as he cooks, resting her head on his shoulder blades. For a moment she relishes in this intimacy, his ability to be more than just her play toy...her fiancé, how odd. She pulls back from him a little as he moves close to sniff her, she drops her arms and moves away from his as he speaks. Suddenly very...turned off. She scowls at him.

"You sure do know how to spoil a mood Songbird. Now I have the desire to never let you touch me again." She listens to his words and her head tilts.

"Next week? I can have my assistant take care of the details in the morning. Unless you want to be...involved," she raises an eyebrow...he would be outlandish enough to make things more complicated, "I also have a friend over at Kleinfeld's, I know what dress you are talking about and they can get it prepared for me. I know its in New York but my connects there will make things move quickly."

She tilts her head to the side...she suddenly realizes that Gavin has never actually been to her apartment. Their...'meetings' have always taken place usually at his place or her office. She jumps up onto his island as she contemplates all the reasons this is not a good idea, such as if things go south she will have her space invaded. She looks him over, his long strong back, his hair fanning out everywhere, his delicious...backside. She really wouldn't want to give up her space...but she doesn't want to move. She has become attached to her lavish quarters. Living at the top of 'The Razor' makes her so happy. She glances over at his coach...

"Alright, we can live at my apartment. You can bring the coach, I might just have a place for it...only if I get something in return." She plays with the helm of her dress, hoping he understands what she is implying.

"Oh, there are many lines. Many of them, you just have to listen carefully," quipped the man with a smirk. He laughed a lithe and shook his head. "Daffodil, I am far deeper then you could ever imagine. I'm as deep as an ocean and as unpredictable as the tides."

He raises an eyebrow. "What fun is it to be straightforward all the time," Gavin asked. "Life needs a little mystery. I never knew games were boring. If they don't please you, how about some fencing? That would be fun, eh?"

He then frowns. "Now, how did I spoil the mood? For me, I am quire aroused. Your scent is sultry," Gavin purred.

After grabbing a bamboo mat, he holds the seaweed over the steaming rice until it was flexible. He then takes a bite of rice. Satisfied, he plops it into a bowl. Laying the seaweed out, he coats it with rice and then layers it with the salmon. Hands working fast, he rolls it. Then, he does the same with the raw tuna. Cutting them into inch high pieces, he puts the food on the plate along with the stir-fried vegetables.

"I just choose to not show that side. It takes a certain skill and wit to be like I am," he said, as he carried the plates to the table. "Let's eat!" Sitting them down, Gavin held Morgan's seat out for her.

He nodded. "Well, yeah. Paperwork takes time. Getting everything fitted takes time. Cooking takes time. Making flowers and decorating takes church hasn't even been held, although a little birdy told me that Wednesday it'll be available. One of my co-workers has a sister who is a sister and I heard them talking about a cancelation. Besides, the guy owes me a favor. And, actually it is only 4 days. That's not too long," Gavin said. "Oh, the dress is already being held. You just need to try it on. Ana will need a brides maid dress I'm guessing."

"Great!" Gavin said. He looks at her leg and growls lightly. "Why of course. I always pay my dues." he winked at her. "Now, les eat! I am starved."

Her smirk is alluring as she jumps down from the island. Her legs separate only slightly, to give him a brief view of his prize tonight. Her heels click as she walks around the island, her hand running over the surface. She plops down onto a stool and takes the sushi. She eats the morsels making sure to moan considerably as each roll enters her mouth. She knows eating sushi cannot be attractive but she knows she can overcome the problem with the noises she can make low in her throat.

She puts the chopsticks down slowly. Her eyes shifting over to his. She stands and moves behind Gavin as he eats, her hands moving under his arms and play with his stomach. Her chin settles on his shoulder her lips close to his ear as she speaks.

"I will go to the dressmaker first thing in the morning. If your good you should come help me plan this thing after my fitting." She nips his lobe. "Now finish up songbird, I have a special prize for you."

She runs her hand over his back and sways her hips from side to side as she walks down his hall. She looks over her shoulder, giving him a sensual smirk as she opens his bedroom door and pulls at the zipper of her dress.

Gavin watched Morgan with a bemused expression on his face. He wasn't quite sure why she was making the noises. The food was really good, but he didn't think it was THAT good. As he eats, he flicks rice with his chopsticks. This was not easy for him. He liked forks better.

His stomach tightens as she rubs her hands against his arms. Hearing the request, he throws the chopsticks aside and picks up the sushi. "I should be able to meet you after noon. I have one meeting in the morning and that's it," he said around a mouthful of food.

Finishing off the rest of the food, he picks up the plates and tosses them in the sink. As if she was pulling him with invisible strings, he follows her to the bedroom. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he places Morgan so she straddles him. At the bed, Gavin lays her down.

Flipping the blankets over their bodies, he works on the zipper of Morgan's dress. Slipping it off, he begins to kiss her from chest to lips. As he works, he carelessly slips out of his clothes, all the while kissing her. He likes feeling her breath against his skin. It makes him shiver with enjoyment. He feels the climax as they join in unity. This is different. This is special. This was love making to the billionth degree. He moans in pleasure, his neck and head going up for a moment as he pulls her to him.

When it was over and he finds her back was pressed against his stomach. With his head resting on her chin, he whispers in her ear. "I love you," he purrs. With eyes closing, Gavin falls asleep.


	36. Chapter 35: To the Pike

The drive was long; several hours on and off the road but finally at 8:30 PM they pulled to a stop at the cabin. Bradley stifled a yawn as he gingerly opened the door and stepped out; the packet of papers in his hand. "Thank you for the lift, Father." he said.

The ride was miserable for Martin. He went from being hot to cold and back again every five minutes. He was shivering and his clothes, and hair was soaked from sweat. He couldn't keep his hands or legs still. When he got out of the car, he fought the urge to go to the bushes and throw up. He had also spent the ride nervous – here he was riding with the man who purged every person with magic.

"Yes, well, you're welcome. When you two are ready, give me a ring. I'll come get you," Anthony said. He sat Bradley and Marty's luggage down and then drove off without another word.

After picking up their stuff (a little tough to do with the cast) Bradley waited for Marty to get his bike before leading him towards the cabin."There's a small workshop in back if you want to store your bike there; better that then out here in the elements." Bradley said, trudging up the four thick, sturdy wooden steps that led on to the wooden porch.

Grasping the black doorknob he just placed his weight upon it and the door slowly swung open with just a small creak. Reaching in and to his left, he found the light switch and flipped it. The lights came on immediately, bathing the living room, kitchen, the foyer and the stairs leading up to the second floor in a warmish glow.

Walking inside, Bradley gratefully tossed the bags on to the dark blue, four seat couch that was in the middle of the living room floor; aligned perfectly so that whomever sat on it could either watch TV or stare at the fireplace.

Going to the kitchen Bradley went to the key rack (which actually said 'KEYS') that was fastened to the wall. Selecting the red key he walked back outside. "Want me to unlock it for you or do you want to do it?" Bradley said, holding the red key that would unlock the workshop door up so Marty could see it. He wasn't going to push; if Marty wanted to take some control; gain some independence he was willing to step back.

Marty looked around the area. Stretching down from the cabin was the road, which diverged at the bottom of the hill the home was situated on. He couldn't wait to take to the road and see how his bike hugged the curves, the dips, and the hills. It would be brilliant. There was also a large lake just off the road that was surrounded by trees. And in the distance was mountains.

He couldn't help bust gasp. "This is where she used to live. It's exactly how she described it to me," whispered Marty to himself. He sighed as he shifted his hand a little bit so he had a better hold on the handle.

Hearing Bradley speak, he glanced towards him. "Yeah," he agreed. Marty couldn't think of anything else to say, which if Marty remembered of his past self, was something very unusual. "Besides, I wouldn't want any wolves riding off on it." The young man cringed at what he'd just said. It was supposed to be a joke, but it failed miserably to his ears.

Hearing the next question, he opened his mouth to speak. He then closed it as he decided what to say. "You can open it…if you want. I kinda have my hands full with the bike. It's not easy to keep upright," Marty said. In the past, he would never have asked for him. In the past, he would've claimed he could've done it on his own. But, that had caused him a lot of trouble and a lot of grief, thus he decision to accept the offer.

Marty rolled the bike to the shed and there he waited for Bradley. "How much do you remember? Do you remember the story of your birth? Do you remember what your father did and had done for 26 years?" he asked. "Do you have any idea why I hid who I was from you?"

He trailed after Marty, using the red key to unlock the black padlock that was on the door to the workshop. Removing the lock, Bradley pushed on the handle; the large workshop door sliding sideways on its rollers.

Inside the workshop there were a few woodworking tools that looked like they hadn't been used in years. There was also a plastic mat rolled out in the corner; the mat was decorated to look like a hopscotch game. It was dirty and covered in cobwebs but the yellow mat itself could still be seen.

On the walls there were pictures; some covered in sawdust. Some of the pictures showed Anthony and his wife while others showed either Anthony leaning against a tree or a very young Bradley riding a horse or learning how to swim. The last two were actually Bradley's first two attempts at finger painting. At the time he had thought they sucked but Anthony had told him he'd keep the pictures and it was obvious now that he had.

"Some things I remember clearly. Others...it's like catch a glimpse of something; one image and a feeling...and then it's gone. My mother died giving birth to me; she gave up her own life so that I would have a chance to live," Bradley paused to shake his head a little, "My father...the King...he hates magic. Why exactly I don't know but he does. I remember he instigated something he called the Purge but what exactly that was I..." Bradley shook his head again.

He took a deep breath and sighed.

"And you. I didn't understand it then...Merlin, but I understand now why you did what you did. Revealing your talents to the King...I don't remember what he would have done to you but...from what I do remember it wouldn't have been pleasant. You made the right decision." Bradley said.

Marty looked around the small space. It was dirty and dim, but the space would do well as a makeshift garage. It was also cozy. Martin imagined that, after a good cleaning, this space would be perfect for working on his art. There was a lot of space and the table was huge - there would be enough space to spread out and draw properly, plus he could leave a mess and not make the cabin look horrid.

"Did you dad use the equipment? I can't imagine him being industrious with tools," Marty said as he examined the saws, hammers, and chisels. In the time he had spent in Camelot, he had never seen Uther pick up the devices of menial jobs. The King hardly picked up something heavier than a quill, if Marty was honest; although he had seen him wield a sword on occasion. However, things were different here. Maybe Anthony did do some hard work with his hands. He was a lawyer and that was a bit different from being King.

Marty ran a finger over the large and well-used work table. His finger was covered in a powdery-tan dust from the space being unused in so long. "Do you…do you need me to clean this place up… when I'm better," he asked. Marty shifted a little bit. In the past, when he was Merlin and Bradley was Arthur, he would've been told to clean the place up. The order of the day would've been to get the floor clean enough to eat off of.

"Under normal circumstances yes I would have you clean the place up if you wanted to use it but...this is your vacation time. I'm not going to force you to do anything that you don't want to do. If you want to leave it dirty go right ahead. If you want to clean it, feel free to do so." Bradley said.

Marty couldn't help but smile and shake his head. "This isn't normal circumstances. Is it even real? It feels it," Mary asked. "What if we get home? Then what? What'll happen then? Do you think we can even go home?"

He looked around. "It's too dirty. I'll need something to do once this is all over. I hear things get better after day three," Marty said. "I'm not going to sit around here being useless. I can't. Besides, I've never been on a vacation. I don't even know what to do on them. At least in Camelot, I never did."

He looked up at the finger paintings. "Not bad," he said. Marty cocked his head as he stared at them. One was of a hornless-unicorn (it had a stump where the horn had been). The other was of red and gold stick figures. "You were trying to remember even back then when you were a kid."

He pointed to the first one. "You killed a unicorn once and brought the horn to your father," he explained. He pointed to the other one. "Those are Camelot's knights. The colors were and red and yellow-gold…goldenrod I guess would be the proper word."

He watched Marty go to his finger paintings; judging them with a keen eye. "The unicorn? I thought I saw that in a movie once. Those knights...I don't remember." Bradley said. It was true, the unicorn he did remember but he always thought he had seen it in a Disney movie or something close to it.

Marty nodded. "I remember many scenes in full, but there are bits missing. I know there are things that happened, but I'm not quite sure what they are or would be," he explained. Marty bowed his head and sighed. "I think I better tell you. You're not going to like it."

When Marty pulled up two chairs and asked him to sit, Bradley did so wordlessly. He then wisely kept his mouth shut and allowed Marty to speak freely. Marty had a lot to say; about everything. His mother, Uther, Camelot and magic, and then he did an amazing thing by literally producing a flower out of thin air.

Martin placed his bike in a safe spot and then grabbed two stools. "Sit down," he said. There was a slight commanding tone to his voice. Marty wiped the sweat from his brow as he coughed. "There's a lot to tell you."

"Your mother, she did die giving birth to you. That is true. However, the reason she died was that your father made a deal with the high priestess Nimueh. She used to work for your father I guess. But, your mother could not conceive and so Uther bartered with Nimueh so he could have an heir to the throne. The stipulation was that a person died or the balance of the world would be off. Your mother was who paid that price. Ygraine, your mother, found out after she became pregnant and by that point it was too late."

Marty stopped and took a deep breath. "After her death, he became angry and embittered towards all things and all people of magic," he continued in a grave voice. "And that's where the purge comes into play. Think about the word and its meaning. Purge is to get rid of."

He stopped yet again. The young man felt that he needed to let the words sink in. After a few minutes of silence, he continued his story. "Bradley…Arthur…your father gathered every single person who used magic and killed them – he drowned them, burned them, and beheaded them. He murdered women, children, the elderly. He even slayed innocent people. Not only did Uther attempt to get rid of magic users, but he rounded up all the dragons, dragonlords, and druids too. One dragon he did keep – under Camelot. And one Dragonlord escaped to Ealdor, but eventually he was killed…not by Uther though. He even killed those who helped magic users"

His voice was shaking. "Uther proclaimed that there would be a ban on magic under the penalty of death. The day I arrived in Camelot, I actually saw one of those beheadings," Marty said. He nodded. "It wouldn't have been pleasant, you're right. I would've been killed in an instant, if you hadn't guessed. I think he would've made it particularly unpleasant for me because I'm different. I didn't learn magic. I am magic. I was born with the innate ability."

As Marty sat there, he rolled his fingers together as if he was making a worm out of clay. In his hand appeared a daisy. He held it up and showed Bradley. "I don't even need to say a word to do magic," he explained. "For a long time I didn't understand myself. I thought I was a monster…the people of my village thought that. They were scared of me."

He sighed as he played with the daisy. "It was Morgause who told me of this. She told you too. I actually told you it was a lie so that you wouldn't kill Uther. I didn't want you to become your father. By the gods, I don't want that. It has been my duty and my destiny to protect you and keep you alive. That dragon I mentioned, he explained that I am supposed to be the greatest and most powerful warlock ever to walk this earth. He explained that you would be the best king of all of Albion and that you would unite the 5 kingdoms," Marty explained. "His name is Kilgharrah, by the way, and you didn't slay him. I banished him and forbade him from attacking Camelot. How? Well, I became a Dragonlord too – the last Dragonlord. Balinor was my father."

Uther was a cold blooded murderer. The dragon that had been housed under the castle had been set free somehow and instead of being killed like everyone had been led to believe, it had been banished by Merlin because he was...

The Last Dragonlord?! Without realizing it Bradley had risen up and started to pace around the workshop. Ten steps forward. Stop. Turn 180 degrees. Ten steps back. Stop. Repeat. His mind was awash with knowledge and information. Everything that Merlin had told him seemed to be right and even as his mind processed it, he saw flashbacks that he hadn't seen before. Uther giving the signal to decapitate believed to have magic. Uther himself drowning a group of young children in a well...

Bradley was so angry at his father for everything the King done in the name of his kingdom that he was visibly shaking with rage. However, while he was seething at his father, he was also seething about the entire situation in general. No one deserved to be treated the way Uther treated those with magic, and Bradley surmised he was as guilty as his father because he didn't do a thing to stop it.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Merlin." Bradley forced out of his lips.

All Bradley wanted to do was destroy something. A little violence sometimes did wonders for his mood, but up in the area around Scafell Pike, hunting wasn't allowed.

Marty changed from shaking his head to nodding. "Yeah, the unicorn," he agreed. "I warned you not to kill it. You didn't listen. It ended with Camelot in a drought and famine. We had to go on a quest set before us by a man named Anhora. I don't remember what happened then though. It's a blur. I do know we lifted the curse."

"And the Knights, they were good men. There was Leon, who was under your command the longest. Then there was Percival, the burliest of the knights, and Gwaine – a rogue who was loyal to a fault, but he had a tendency to hop from bar to bar and get into fights – and then Elyan – your youngest knight. Finally, there was Lancelot, the noblest and most valiant of them all. You know him as Lance in this world."

Marty waved the flower about as he watched Arthur. "It was I who released Kilgharrah. I had to. I had made a deal with him. I didn't know he was going to try to destroy Camelot though," he admits.

As Arthur paced, Marty's eyes tracked him. "You're mad. Don't do anything foolish, please," he begged. His brow furrowed. "I don't know if I should thank you or not."

The man stood, He was shaking and shivering a bit, but he ignored it. "Come on," Marty said. He got onto the bike. "Get on behind me. We're going for a little ride. You'll feel better. Although, there is one rule before we continue – don't be a backseat driver. I will speed. Don't worry, I know how to control this bike. Also, you might hold on. That's just a suggestion, but I'd follow it or you will probably fall off."

Oh! Bradley wasn't mad, he was way beyond mad at that point, but when Marty climbed on his bike and then instructed Bradley to climb on behind him, that had been enough to cause the older man to stop his pacing and actually look at Marty.

Perhaps this was what he needed. A chance to get out and clear the air as it were. What better way to do that and keep an eye on Marty than to go on a ride with him? Nimbly he walked the short distance over to the younger man; sliding on to the bike directly behind Marty.

"No backseat driving...it's going to be tough...but go for it." Bradley said, taking heed to Marty's other warning about holding on. He knew all about bikes; he had seen enough bike accidents to know the consequences of falling off of one at high speeds.

"But uh...hold on to what? You?" Bradley asked; a vision of his arms wrapped around Marty's torso came to mind.

"I know what I'm doing, but this job requires concentration. I will be holding up this machine. That's not an easy feat, if you didn't know," Marty said. "Just trust me. Okay? I don't plan on flipping this bike."

Marty chuckled and shook his head. "Well, you could, but you could also hold onto the seat. Feel under the seat, there's a lip to hold onto."

He started the bike. Kicking the kickstand back, Marty put his foot on the gas, squeezed the handle and sped from the storage shed. By the gods it felt so good! The bike hugged the curves as of it was made for this road.

The greens and browns of the trees, the black and white of the night sky with clouds. and the gray of the road blurred into stripes of blocky color. The wind whipped his hair back and pushed against his cheeks. Marty could hear nothing but the wind, roar of the engine, and the hum of the tires.

"This is brilliant," he screamed as he slowed the bike a little bit, but only because it reached its maximum speed. As the bike leaned sideways, the toe of his boot touched the lake they were speeding around. Tilting the handles, he righted himself as he continued onwards.

Even though he couldn't see his hand, Bradley had a death grip on the handle that Merlin had pointed out to him. Staying balanced on the bike with only one hand was hard and he was pretty sure he would have a hand cramp once this was all said and done.

The wind whipped through his hair, reminding him of past times when he was on horseback; the sun shining right in his face and for a moment; just a moment everything felt right with the world.

Then he was brought back to the reality of the situation. The papers. He had taken pictures of all of the documents Gavin had sent him; taken pictures but that's as far as it had gone, he hadn't actually read the papers yet, he intended to do that the moment they got back to the cabin.


	37. Chapter 36: Mud Bath

It feels exhilarating when she drives...well it's supposed too. Ever since she placed her emotions in the stone she can't find it in herself to enjoy anything anymore. Almost makes her want to destroy the stone...almost. She drives faster, her body prickling as she gets closer to her target. What an idiot...red? How predictable. She can see her loony brother riding on the back, a couple of lovers how quaint! Ana laughs at her own joke as she speeds up, showing the two of them just how fast one could be on a bike. Her black hair flows out behind her, the gloves on her hands feel tight and amazing. Her full helmet creating the perfect disguise.

She speeds past them, she glances over at Marty, so happy and content with himself. She makes a note to herself to make sure to wipe that happy look off of his face. She crouches into herself the bike speeding and splashing dirt onto his shiny bike. She laughs inside of her helmet as she speeds off past him, joy coming from messing up his things. Ana has never felt this pleased with herself...well not in a long time.

All of a sudden he was brought out of his self absorbed musings by another motorcyclist who whizzed by them, splashing mud all over Marty's bike. The bad thing was the mud didn't just hit the bike, it got all over them as well.

The mud was so unexpected that Bradley flinched, having to forcibly remind himself not to let go of his grip on the bike or else he'd go tumbling off. Yeah...that wouldn't be pleasant.

"Son of a..." He muttered the curse word in to the air, thankfully the wind blew it away where it couldn't be heard.

Marty watched as the black bike sped passed them. He made a face as the mud hit his face. Reaching up, he wiped it away. Instead of racing the rider, he slowed the bike and then put his foot on the break so it stopped. He didn't want to flood the engine.

Hopping off, he held onto the machine with one hand. The other hand he rested on his hip. "What do you want?" he snapped. "You know…I can just wash the bike and myself. No biggie. Do you honestly think I haven't got mud on it before? Please. I ride all the back roads. Mud and I are friends."

Marty shifted. He cocked his head to one side and then the other. "You know what, I don't care," Marty said. He hopped onto his bike and sped up the hill. When he back in the dusty and dirty tool shed, he turned off the engine, kicked the kick stand, and then shakily got off the bike.

He'd done too much. He realized it. His body was shaking worse than ever. He couldn't focus. And he was so hot, even out in the cool air. Sweat poured down him. Marty ignored it as he filled a bucket with water. Stooping, he wiped away the mud. Marty was not going to leave any grime on it; dirt could make the machine rust.

"Can we go in, now," he whispered. Instead of heading to the house, he sat down on the ground. Leaning his head back, he deep breathed to try to calm the shaking and the tightness in his stomach.

"It will get better." He whispered this. It was said more to himself then to Bradley, but Bradley could answer if he wanted. "It has to."

"Yeah sure, we can go in now." Bradley replied. He too was a little desperate to go in as well so he could change clothes and get the freaking mud off! He could deal with a lot of things; bullets, guns, blood (even his own), but when it came to dirt and especially mud...!

Getting off of the bike Bradley hands to keys to the workshop to Marty so he can lock up.

"Lock's on the stone outside, just in front of the door." Bradley said. He then turned and went back outside and up to the cabin.

"Good," Marty said, but he didn't move. He was so tired. He also knew he would be getting weary with the past days. Sleep would be the last thing he would able to do until the detox was over. This would be the second night and so he had one more to go through before that would come. Marty couldn't wait.

He took the key and nodded. "All right," he replied. He was a little surprised Bradley left him alone – that he told him to go in or ask if anything was wrong. But, what would Marty have said to that question? There was two options – to tell the truth or to blatantly lie. And, the only response to Bradley pushing him to actually get him up and into the house, would've been to scowl and balk. Yes, trying would've been futile.

Bradley was reaching in his pocket for the keys to the cabin when he saw something that made his heart nearly stop in his chest. The cabin door which had been locked was now standing wide open. Forcing himself to breathe easily, Bradley stepped in to the cabin, not bothering with the lights; just in case the intruder was still inside.

The first thing he did was grab his father's shot gun which he kept in the closet that was just inside the door. After checking to see that it was still loaded, Bradley began to sneak around the cabin. It was a little weird, seeing an officer holding the shot gun against a cast while his uninjured hand was near the trigger, but hey, it worked!

He checked through the living room and kitchen, not seeing anything. Next he went upstairs after after checking through the two bedrooms, bathroom, closets and other spare rooms up there, he didn't find anyone.

Trudging back down the stairs Bradley decided to take a closer look at the kitchen.

While contractors tried to make sure that the place was in good condition, they were terrible about dusting. Perhaps whoever had broken in had left some prints behind? Walking in to the kitchen Bradley soon had his answer. One of the cabinet doors, while it wasn't fully open, it was standing ajar; fresh finger marks could be seen in the dust.

Going in to the living room, Bradley checked through all of their bags. After a few minutes he discovered that one thing was missing and once he discovered what it was, he was pretty sure who had broken in. Putting the shotgun down; all thoughts of drying mud gone, Bradley whips out his cellphone, goes to his contacts list and selects a single contact.

Seeing the words 'Dialing' a moment later, Bradley puts the cellphone to his ear and waits.

"Come on Gavin," Bradley mumbles, "you need to pick up."

His first order of business was to call Gavin, then he would dust for fingerprints; starting with those he found in the kitchen! Lance knew how to check the database for finger prints so then it would only be a question of having the other man come up to the cabin (along with some equipment) and preform the search. If indeed it turned out to be whom Bradley it was that had broken in, he would at least be able to nail her for breaking and entering!


	38. Chapter 37: Feeling

She was bored, she had gone through all the documents, twice, and now her sister was gone. She took a few moments, thinking, pondering. What could Ana do with her time...probably nothing productive...besides...

Morgan would kill her if she left to play with the boys but what could Ana do? This place was beyond dull...and her brother always provided such fun entertainment. Her eyes are dark as she grabs her leather jacket and rushes down the stairs, her blood pumping. Her smirk is psychotic as she runs with her helmet.

She mounts the bike quickly, she hopes they recognize the metal. She wants them to know. She isn't like Morgan anymore, she wants her victories over her brother and his idiot manservant to be medals of honor. She knows how to play the system better than anyone...her blood stone shines as she peels off. The drive does not take long, only fifteen minutes or so...or in her crazed driving, five.

She sees Marty enter the workshop with his bike in tow, his back to her. She's going to give him a scare indeed.

"Éist"

The door closes and locks behind him, she hopes he gets a fright. The door is open, she knows where her brother is. She is determined, powerful. She does not care, she sees him on the phone, whispering something under his breath. She knows he has his memories back...the time for hiding is over.

"Hello brother dear."

He stiffens.

That voice so sultry in it's evilness!

Phone still to his ear he turns and gives Morgana a look that did nothing to show how angry he was at that moment.

"You." He said, nearly spitting out the word.

Lowering his phone he didn't end the call but left the line open, hoping that just in case Gavin did pick up he would be able to hear their conversation and hopefully guess the problem.

Putting the phone in his pocket, Bradley then grabbed the shot gun. He never knew that he could hate someone so much as Morgana, but he did.

"Why'd you come back this time, hmm? Drop some lipstick from your earlier visit? Don't even try to lie to me, I know you were here!" He angrily says as his hand tightens on the shot gun which he has pointed directly at Morgana.

She eyes the phone, she may be crazy but she isn't stupid...Ana Stidolph has watched too much Law and Order to trust any phones. She looks at the shotgun, her body shaking in laughter, her face contorted into a seductive, evil, smile.

"Oh now don't be like that. Haven't you missed me brother? Or have you been too busy playing with your little manservant..."

She smirks as her hand comes up, her eyes glowing. "You have one shot brother dear, I expect you make it count or you will be in a position you will just not enjoy."

"Miss you? How can I miss someone that hates us so much and what we stand for?!" Arthur asked. The 'us' he was referring to was the Pendragon family and what they stood for.

"You know, I'm glad Merlin poisoned you, I only wish that you would have stayed dead! All you have been doing is trying to hurt that man left and right. You almost succeeded a few times in killing him but no more. If this is the only way to keep you away from him for good then so be it, sister. You aren't any sister of mine!" Bradley says.

Taking aim he pulls the trigger of the shotgun. The recoil of the gun is enough that it causes him to stumble back a little so he doesn't see if he actually hit her or not.

The gun fires and grazes her left arm. She doesn't even flinch, the pain just stirs her on. Her eyes go gold, her hair flies back as her fingers itch to cast.

"Cheangal suas"

She watches as his body lifts up and lands in a heap on the coach, an invisible force holding his hands under his body. She laughs darkly, her eyes lingering on the blood dripping down her arm. She walks over to the coffee table, sitting down in front of him, knees to knees. She loves this, the helplessness of the great King Arthur. She crosses her legs, the blood drips down her arm, not enough to cause any permanent damage. She allows the pain to fuel her hatred, her blood stone feels cold under her white shirt.

"Aren't you just so ready to kill for your trusted manservant. Let me fill you in dear brother. While you've had your head up your arse I've been productive. Do you really think this would end any other way? Look at you...so pathetic...so weak."

She pulls out a small dagger from behind her, twiddling the handle, her eyes going from the blade to Arthur.

"You are so quick to throw me away, so quick to destroy our relationship...for what? A servant...how predictable..."

The stone pulsates under her skin, suppressing the sadness she should feels.

"You know nothing of what happened...just what that bastard told you. You are so quick to believe him...you don't even know the truth."

Arthur lets out a pained grown as his body is slammed down on the couch. His arms are trapped underneath him. Under normal circumstances it would be uncomfortable but Arthur was forced to put his entire weight on the plaster cast. That weight was then transferred to his wounded arm, making it explode with pain.

"What relationship Morgana? We were always at odds even before I knew you were my sister. Merlin is more a friend to me than you ever will be!" Arthur says.

He eyes her shirt, seeing something red underneath the white. A red stoned necklace obviously.

"What truth Morgana? Camelot was dying! You were the only one that was not affected by it. Merlin managed to put two and two together and he managed to save Camelot. That's the truth!" Arthur ground out, even though he was a little curious to know what Morgana meant by her words.

She leans forward, her hand moving into his pocket to remove his phone. She smiles wickedly at him, her eyes looking at the collar ID. She presses the end brother, and shows him the face of the "call end" screen.

"Gavin hmm? How bold brother...I was hoping you'd call your other friend. Alas, you called my sister's favorite pet. You do know how loyal he is to her...funny how Gwaine used to be loyal to you and here he is too busy lusting after my sister! How quaint..."

She moves around the table and places the phone on the table. She stands up on the wood, her heel coming down to crush the screen. Her eyes sinister. She tilts her head, her eyes dark.

"Your faithful manservant...he didn't tell you that he knew did he? That before you even entered Camelot that day that he knew I had magic. I went to him...begging for help...pleading with him that I need someone, anyone. I trusted him more than I've trusted another human being...what a fool I was."

She jumps down in front of him again, sitting securely on the table again, her eyes becoming dark, the stone shinning again. Her smirk comes back and she laughs evilly.

"What an idiot I was Arthur! Do you not see!...Not only am I foolish enough to trust him...I believe a part of me loved him for keeping my secret. How daft!"

Her laughter is dark, the blood stone pulsates against her emotions, the sadness and longing being suppressed. She lifts the dagger again, she kneels on the side of Bradley, her finger holding his collar as she cuts into his shirt, the blade nicking his skin. Her face comes close to his ear, the blood stone slipping out of her shirt to shine in front of his face.

"Do you know what its like dear brother? To know that the one person you trusted, loved, would betray you in such a way."

She cuts him one on the stomach, and then throws the blade away. Her hand claiming his throat.

"I will show you how it feels."

He didn't know how he managed to keep from crying out when Morgana smashed his cellphone but he did. That complicated matters greatly. The nearest phone would now be in the small town miles away from the cabin. The other problem was the pictures that were on the phone.

Even as he thought about that, he also listened to what Morgana said. What choice did he have in the matter?

She was right of course; Merlin had kept his mouth shut about the fact that Morgana had magic. If he did it then, what else could he have been hiding?

He shivered when he felt the blade of Morgana's knife cut in to his shirt, ripping the front to shreds. When Morgana leaned forward and the stone slipped out, his eyes went immediately to it. He had seen Morgana's jewelry before but this was something totally new. Before he could even open his mouth to ask about it he felt the knife blade cut in to his skin moments before he felt cool hands wrap around his throat, squeezing off his air supply.

That was when Arthur starts to struggle against his invisible bonds. He kept trying to yanks his arms up and out to try to grab hold of Morgana's own hands but he couldn't. Arthur felt his heart pounding in earnest as the skin around his face and neck started to feel all tingly from lack of oxygen.


	39. Chapter 38: Messed Up

He is unaware of the door locking. His mind had drifted off and he'd been in deep thought. He only moved when his butt got numbed with the coolness of the concrete. "Guess it's time to go in," Marty thought as he pushed himself up.

Striding to the door, he tried the handle. It was locked. That was odd. Bradley had left the door open actually. He tried the key, but it didn't work. "Intsperren," he whispered. He heard a click and so Marty tried the handle again. The door opened.

Striding up the path, he heads to the cabin. When he hears raised voices as well as a gunshot (not in that order), Marty dashes up the steps two at a time. He skids to a stop. His eyes widen at the scene before him

Without thinking, he raises a hand. "Scufan bæc," he shouts in the tongue of the Dragonlord. He aims it at Morgana. Through a film of gold, he watches as her body is pushed away from Bradley and against the wall. He keeps his hand up and his eyes trailed on her. The blueness is gone. His eyes are still gold. Marty holds her against the wall with his magic.

"Leave him alone," Marty demands. He is shivering and sweaty. However, with this weakened state there is power.

Her body feels heavy and her eyes widen...he has magic...that bastard has magic! She cannot take the rage boiling within her. The blood stone shakes on her neck and cools as it suppresses the powerful emotions attempting to break through. She is clearheaded again, an evil smirk coming to her face again.

"Oh how delicious...not only are you a pain in my side...you are a magical pain in my side."

Her laughter increases, and her eyes go gold.

"Scaoileadh"

The blood stone rages against her cool demeanor as the spell breaks and she falls, the blood on her arm dripping to the floor. She doesn't care about anything anymore, she just wants revenge...and this moron interrupted her. She hates him...she loathes him. She can see his eyes on her, she can't help but laugh. She walks over to Merlin...what an annoyance. She sneaks a peek at her brother, she is not done with him. She stands close to Merlin, her head cocked.

"So mighty...aren't you Emrys"

She pulls him to her as she kisses him, the act meant to distract him. She pulls from him only slightly, her hand facing towards Arthur.

"Eolas"

She smiles at Merlin.

"Let's play again sometime Merlin...I do quite enjoy this..."

She pushes him down and jumps past him, waving to her brother as she races out of the house, jumping on her bike and speeding away.

"You have no idea who I am, Morgana," he says. Marty straightens. He holds his head high and keeps his back straight. The power of his magic keeps him strong and willful Slowly, he lowers his hand and his eyes fade black to blue as he releases her from his magical hold.

He also laughs a little and shakes his head. "Why yes, I am. I am the most powerful warlock ever to walk this earth. There will be no one else like me – not now or ever. I was born of magic and I will die of it, too. And I am Dragonlord – the last of my kind," Marty said. His words and tone were deep. The warlock would've said more she grazed his lips with her. As she kissed him, he pushes her away. "Leave me alone and leave him alone, as well. You will not have us. Never."

The man glares at her as she leaves. Then, after a second, Marty goes over to Bradley. "Are you OK," he asked.

The moment the spell was cast and Morgana was more or less thrown off of him, Arthur took in a big gulp of air. He had just started to see the dots in his vision when Morgana had been tossed against the wall.

He coughed once. Twice, before he managed to catch his breath. Because he was in such an awkward position he was physically unable to sit up, so he did the next best thing, he slid to the floor so he could regain is footing.

Shakily Arthur gripped the cast which was still behind his back and as gently as he could he moved the cast (his arm inside) up and over until it was in it's proper place in front of his chest. He didn't hear the spell that Morgana chanted but he did look up at her, his own eyes glowing yellow for just a second as the spell took hold. His eye color returned to normal as if nothing had ever happened.

Reaching over Arthur picked up the main piece of his phone, flipping it over in his good hand. The back of the phone had snapped off to reveal the battery and the inner workings, but thankfully the sim card was still in place. Gingerly he picked at the tiny card until he snapped out of it's placement in the now destroyed phone. Pocketing the tiny card Bradley stands up, the bits of his shirt hanging off of his chest. The wound that Morgana had inflicted on his chest was still bleeding but it wasn't bad; a compress would help to stop the bleeding.

["Are you OK?"]

Arthur blinks and then glances at Merlin. How to answer the question presented to him...there were so many answers that he could give. What did Merlin exactly mean? Was he physically okay, emotionally okay...?

Arthur swallowed the bit of saliva that was in his mouth, wincing a little when he felt the small finger shaped bruises on his throat. God, Morgana had a strong grip!

"Okay..." he begins, "Define 'okay' Merlin. Things are not okay here."

Arthur was breathing heavily as he waited for Merlin's reply. Looking away from Merlin, Arthur opened one of his bags that was still on the edge of the couch and took out one dark blue sleeveless shirt.

He was very on edge after everything that had happened. To be honest, Arthur didn't know what to think anymore.

Arthur could feel his right arm growing tingly and cold inside the cast but he ignored it. He already knew that more damage had been done to it, so what was the point in complaining about it anymore? Arthur knew he should probably get it checked out once more but he was already so fed up with doctors that it wasn't even funny. Besides; he felt he already knew what they would tell him anyway. His arm was just too messed up to be used anymore. That would definitely suck but he felt that it would be the truth.

"Things are so messed up right now..." Arthur murmurs. He bites his lip as he shakes his head, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

Marty looked at the phone. "Maybe I could try to fix it," he offered. No, Marty had no idea how to fix a phone, but he would try. Or maybe there was an old one lying around. Determined, Marty went into the kitchen and searched the drawers. Finding a very old one as well as a charger, he brought it to Bradley. "We could just charge this thing up and use it. The mobile is not fancy, but it would do."

"I mean are hurt okay. Physically, are you okay? The wound doesn't look deep," Marty said. He had a frown on his face. "I know things aren't. Gods, I hate to say this, but I'm used to it. Do you honestly know how many Things I've fought to protect you and to protect myself? Almost every week there was something new."

He nodded. "Yeah, they are. I think they have been for awhile. It seems like my life has been pretty messed up since I arrived in Camelot. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't come. It doesn't matter now though. We can't change the past."

He stared at the wound. "Come on. Let's get it cleaned up," Marty said. With a diligent hand, he maneuvered Bradley to the bathroom. Closing the toilet seat, he sat the man down. Wetting a light blue wash cloth, he began to wipe the blood away as well as put pressure on the wound.

Arthur takes the old phone and looks at it. "It'll do for making outgoing calls but it's too old to accept the sim card." he says evenly, letting the phone recharge. "It doesn't even allow for texting." he mutters.

He ignores Marty's questions at present but he does go with the younger man to the bathroom and he silently allows Marty to clean the knife wound.

"It's fine just leave it alone,"Arthur murmurs after a moment. He was already so banged up already what was one more injury to him now?

Arthur is silent for a moment before he asks, "We are never going to get back, are we?" The tone in his voice was sad almost bordering on despair. After everything that had happened, everything they had been through was there even a fool's hope that they would ever return to Camelot?

She gets to the hotel, her eyes are dark as she enters her room, her leather jacket hiding the blood. She takes off her jacket and places it next to the bed, frowning at the blood. She drops it down and places her hand over the garment.

"Shocrú"

Her garments are healed as she strips and steps into the shower, she doesn't cower in the water for what feels like the first time in years. She lets the droplets splash over her body and her eyes are dark and powerful as the water washes away the graze from the bullet hole. Her eyes go gold and her arm heals as the water washes away her pain. She steps out of the shower, usually she would light up a cigarette...but she doesn't feel the need as she once did.

She looks to the phone on the vanity. She should call the babysitter...checking on her puppy. She rolls her eyes, that is something for an emotional human being. She changes into a light white nightgown. She knows her brother will come tonight...the spell calls for it. The carpet feels soft against her feet, her eyes are dark.

For now she will wait.


	40. Chapter 39: Charmed, I'm Sure

Arthur doesn't even give Merlin more than five seconds to respond to his question before he stands up, grabs a square gauze piece and some surgical tape. Smoothly he tapes up the knife wound; a little haphazardly with only his one hand, before he gingerly changes shirts.

"I've got something for you." Arthur says, walking out of the bathroom not even glancing back to see if Merlin was following. He goes back downstairs and to the black backpack, opening it up and digging out a box that looks big enough to hold a whole chess board and its pieces.

"It's an art set. Paint, colored pencils...anything you need. There's more than enough paper in the desk over there in the kitchen." Arthur says.

He goes in to the kitchen and selects two keys off of the rack.

"I'm going out for a bit to clear my head and...see if I can get a new cellphone." Arthur mumbles, going out the back door. He walks behind the shed and to a large metal door that looks like the cover for a storm shelter. Unlocking the door he pries the door open before descending down grey ramp.

In the middle of the underground storm shelter/ work station was something covered with a tarp. Gripping the tarp Arthur tosses it aside to reveal a beautiful ATV.

It had been a present from his father the day he turned twelve; he had ridden on it a lot until he had gotten tired of it, now he had great need of it.

Getting on the ATV, he sticks the key in the ignition before firing up the engine. At first it wouldn't turn over but after four tries the engine roared to life.

Slowly he drove it up the ramp and on to the grass. Without even a glance back he roared away from the cabin.

It took him thirty minutes to get in to town but once he did he immediately rode to a hotel and stopped there. He didn't know why but he just had a feeling that there was something he needed to do. Shutting down the ATV he pocketed the key and got up off of the vehicle.

Going inside the hotel he walked by the check in desk, taking the stairs one by one until he got off and walked down an empty hallway. Slowly he stopped at a particular door, raised his hand and knocked.

It didn't even occur to him that he didn't even know why he was there or who's door he was standing in front of.

The window blows at her short white dress and hair, the thin straps fluttering as well. She hears the knock and she smiles deviously.

"Show time."

Her bare feet pad down across the carpet to the door. She makes quick work of the locks and opens the door, her eyes lighting up.

"Brother dear, how nice of you to drop by." She moves to the side, allowing him to enter.

The door opens to reveal... Arthur's eyes go wide. Of all of the people he was half expecting to see, Morgana wasn't one of them! "M...Morgana?" he asks as he steps in to the room.

The confused look is written all over his face. Just what the hell was he doing there, and more importantly how did he know where to go?! "How...?" he mumbles, not even sure how to broach the question. "How did I get here?" he finally asks. He couldn't really describe the feelings other than an unconscious urging to go to the hotel and up to that particular room.

"Oh stop acting so confused...how else do you think I would get you here brother dear?" She motions for him to take a seat on her bed, her eyes dark and mysterious. "I will not hurt you brother, I just wanted to chat. I only wanted to chat before but then you went and shot me...how dull."

She walks over to the fridge and pulls out two water bottles. She stares at the plastic for what feels like an eternity. The memory of the poisoning creeping into her psyche. Her blood stone shines at is suppresses her sadness, her hatred for Merlin. She has to focus, the stars have given her a new mission and she must complete it.

She turns towards Arthur handing him the water. Her eyes are hard. "It's sealed, promise I didn't poison it."

Arthur doesn't move at first but after a moment he goes and slowly sits down on the very edge of Morgana's bed. "You have a funny way of saying you want to chat, by breaking and entering a residence and stealing property that is not your own." Arthur says.

He watches her grab two water bottles and stare at them for a lot longer than necessary before she came to him and offered him one of them. Not wishing to be rude he took the offered water bottle, studying the plastic seal to see if she was indeed telling the truth. Sure enough the seal was unbroken.

"Thank you." he says. Gripping the cap tightly he squeezed and turned at the same time, feeling and hearing the plastic seal tear. With the seal now broken it was easy to unscrew the cap and place it on the bed.

Arthur took one swig of the cool liquid, resisting the urge to close his eyes as he swallowed the refreshing drink. "What is there to talk about?" he asks when his mouth is empty.

She smiles at him, her dress blowing again against the breeze. Her mind filters back to a time before Merlin, a soft smile comes to her lips as she walks over to her the cabinet.

"Do you remember what it used to be like Arthur? What we used to be like?" She grabs for the folder and holds it in front of her, looking at the pages wistfully. She turns suddenly, grasping the folder to her chest.

"We used to go riding together...you had promised me that you would always protect me...and I told you that I was even more scared because if you were my best chance of survival I was doomed...and then I beat you in a sword fight."

She laughs, it comes out colder than intended, she is trying to reign in her dark determination. She throws the folder down next to him.

"I have copies but I think you should see how easy it is for me to take your things. Brother, in this world you are not a king...you are a mere servant to the elected officials...and we all know who controls them. Even if you did try to pin anything on me you truly would be wasting your time. I have all of Scotland Yard in my back pocket."

Her head tilts to the side, and her eyebrow quirks. "But...that is not why I summoned you here."

Arthur is silent and for once he is glad he holds his tongue especially when Morgana threw the file down beside him. "Oh I don't have to try. You left all of the evidence I need back at the cabin. You tried to be so careful but even you sister, made mistakes. Shame really. If you had brought a Swiffer dusting cloth and remembered to lock the front door I wouldn't have even known you were there. As it is...the place is covered in finger prints; your finger prints which I have already dusted for and sent to my sources for verification. Just because you break one cellphone doesn't mean that I don't have more." he says.

He pauses, "but as you said that's not why you brought here. What is it?" He almost sounds bored even though he is far from it. He is downright nervous but is doing his best not to show it. Arthur never did like not being in control and right then Morgana had all the cards and he was sure she was going to play each and every one of them.

She opens the file; she has read it over twice. Her eyes are dark as they look towards her brother, her smile crooked and harsh.

"I want to show you what your 'loyal' friend is capable of. I want to show you the realities of my power...and the lines that bastards will cross." She holds out her palm, her eyes are strong, the blood stone pulsates underneath her cloths.

"You can say no, you can walk out, but know this Arthur. Life is not what it seems, this reality is not where we belong. You are so quick to side with a man you know nothing about and throw away the relationship with a woman you have known since your younger years."

The reality is...she doesn't give a damn about his opinion, or who he cares for. This is not about getting her brother back or creating a relationship...no this is about power and the destruction of Merlin, Emrys. She knows if she can create a wedge, even a small one, her victory will be that much closer to her.

Arthur stares at Morgana's hand for just a moment wondering if he should even believe what she is saying to be true. A part of him doesn't want to believe it, but a stronger part does.

He wanted to believe Merlin, his man servant was his best friend after all but…what if Merlin was hiding more secrets?

"Okay…show me." He says after a moment.

She smiles at him, what a good boy her brother is…maybe she should have him on a leash. Morgan already has her pet…why shouldn't Ana have hers.

"Alright brother." She stands up, her hands facing the ceiling and her eyes glow.

"Athraigh aghaidh"

Her hands lace together and they start to move over her chest and up her neck, and over her face changing her appearance. As her fingers run over her hair she smiles that sweet loving smile. She now looks like Gwen.

Good Lord!

Arthur blinks several times. Gwen?! Where the hell did Morgana go?! His head told him that Morgana was still standing right in front of him but his heart and his eyes told him that it was Gwen.

"Gwen!" Arthur barks in surprise, jumping to his feet, "You…you're here!" It didn't even occur to him that his sentence was totally stupid and that he was still talking to his sister.

She smiles sheepishly at him. Her eyes are soft and loving. She moves her soft hands over his hair, Ana has to stop herself from gagging. She musters up all her power and speaks.

"I am going to protect you Arthur, and this kingdom. You trust me don't you?" Her fingers play with his chin and move lazily down his neck.

"Kingdom?" he mutters, forcing himself to look away. All at once he is standing in the throne room of Camelot. The place is quiet and serene with the sun poring down from the windows. Behind him the two big doors were shut and the giant block of wood was keeping the doors shut.

"Camelot…" he whispers, not entirely believing what he is seeing, "was it all just a dream?"

He realizes that Gwen is still waiting for a reply so he glances back to her, looking deep in to her chocolate brown eyes. "I trust you." He murmurs.

Ana smiles at his stupidity, what a moron. She brings one of her dark delicate hands up to Arthur's cheek and the other to his throat. Her eyes shift gold.

"Péine"

She stands back as the spell takes effect, her eyes widen as if she cannot believe what she has done. Inside Morgana dances, she has taken the pain she once felt, the betrayal, the hurt, and pushed it into her naïve brother.

Arthur stares in to Gwen's eyes. He loves her deeply and he wishes he could tell her but he knew what his father's reaction would be.

He gives her a small smile, not even hearing the spell conjured.

A moment goes by before he raises a hand a coughs. There was a tickle in the back of his throat that had just started and wouldn't go away.

"Sorry," he mutters. Seconds later the smile goes away and he just stands there, a questioning look on his face; something was definitely wrong here.

Slowly he raises a hand to his throat and tries to swallow as if something was caught in his throat, but he is unable to swallow. He takes a deep breath but it feels as if his lungs are refusing to work.

One gasp. He pales, eyes growing larger as he realizes he is getting absolutely no oxygen in to his lungs.

Another gasp. He sinks to his knees; hands still at his throat as his eyes slowly go to Gwen. He looks at her in a half shocked half knowing way. She had killed him and there wasn't any way around that.

A third gasp. Spots were beginning to appear around his vision and his body was beginning to feel all tingly.

She kneels down, the same way he had. Her arms coming around Arthur and bringing him close, his back hitting her chest as her cheek rests on his hair.

"It is ok Arthur. It is for the good of the kingdom. That is what is most important, right? The kingdom. You would gladly die…even if I'm the one who killed you, right?"

She strokes his cheek as he gasps for breath, her eyes gold and psychotic as she stares down at him. With Gwen's face placed where hers is supposed to be, she almost looks like a conniving snake. Her eyes become dark as she lets him suffer for just a moment longer…

It was like he was hearing things through a long tunnel or something. Everything Gwen said was like an echo. He barely even felt her wrap her arms around him; everything was going numb.

["It is ok Arthur."] Wait a second…OKAY?! No it most certainly was not okay! He was more than willing to die for his kingdom but not like this! Not at the hands of some…

Arthur couldn't even finish the thought, having no more strength to even move or think.

Even though he didn't want it to he could feel his body relaxing and his breathing slowing. He only had moments left before the darkness would come to claim his mind forever and during this time even Arthur didn't know that a single tear was rolling down his cheek.

She stares at him as he slips into nothingness, the desire to leave him there seeps into her thoughts. Not yet…the stars have whispered, they have spoken. The king can live another day. She places a hand on his throat, her eyes going gold.

" Anála"

The spell lifts and she is returned to her luminescent skin, and she is sure her pathetic kin has survived. The stone on her neck glows as she stares down at her brother. She moves her body and doesn't even look to see if he tumbles over. She just rolls her eyes.

"Don't be melodramatic Arthur. You're not dead."

When the spell ended Arthur's limp body fell to the floor in Morgana's hotel room. Arthur was so limp and still that for a moment he did appear to be dead but after three minutes he started to wake up. Suddenly his eyes opened and he gasped for breath.

He could breathe again; thank God! He was shaking and covered in a cold sweat as his mind reeled. Did that really just happen?! Sitting up, Arthur laid eyes on Morgana and for the first time since he was a child he acted the coward; scooting as far away from Morgana as he could. Arthur was breathing hard; half out of pure unrelenting fear of his sister and fear over what he had just experienced.

She brings him the water, rolling her eyes at him. "Drink, it will help with the sore throat."

She leans back against the opposite wall, the soft breeze prickling at her bare arms. She rubs them for a moment, she can tell it is a sign, the stars wish to speak with her. She does not have time for that.

Her eyes shift back to her shaken up brother, she brings her own bottle of water to her lips and takes a generous gulp…now for the icing on the delectable cake.

"Scary isn't it? For ten minutes you try to gasp for breath, try to reach for something that you normally receive so easily. Who knew breath could be taken from one so easily." Her eyes meet his, her irises are dark.

Arthur accepts the bottle of water and slowly drinks from it.

After a moment he asks, "Why? Why would you show me that?" Even as he is waiting for a reply he suddenly remembers something Merlin told him.

"It was Merlin, wasn't it? He's the one that did that to you." He mumbles.

She looks wistfully out the window, at the mention of his name the blood stone glows, suppressing the urge to cry out. She just looks at the window, suddenly having the urge to toss her brother out of the three story building. She just stares at him instead.

"Image brother, being with someone you trust, you love. They look to you and tell you it's for the kingdom…that is what Merlin told me when I came back. That he didn't 'want' too. He didn't even apologize. He didn't even give me a choice, he tricked me into drinking the poison, he believed me evil. I never even had a chance to defend myself."

She slowly rises, her dress fluttering as she looks down at her powerless kin.

"I didn't ask for this Arthur. Merlin didn't even tell me he had magic, he could have helped me. Instead this is what I've become. I have done wretched things, but at least I own them. What does your manservant own?" She crosses her arms. "I never knew I could hate someone so much…but I guess that is the line between love and hate. Once you cross it…"

"I think I understand now," Arthur says as he slowly rises to his own feet. As he thinks back on everything he begins to think that somehow Merlin's apologies for what happened to Morgana weren't going to come close to cutting it. He had killed her, plain and simple but there was the other side to consider. Merlin was deeply remorseful for what he did; or at least he claimed to be.

The lad had done so many stupid things in his life and attempting suicide was the icing on the proverbial cake. "He hurt you, lied to you and killed you and you only want to reciprocate the gesture. I understand that, but honestly Morgana, Merlin has been beating himself up over what happened to you. Can you honestly say that if your roles had been reversed you would not have killed him for the sake of thousands of other lives?" Arthur asks.

Morgana's eyes narrowed towards her brother. "I would have given him a choice."

"Like you are giving him a choice now? You have been on the offensive when it comes to Merlin for a very long time; in this time and in Camelot's time. When is it going to be enough Morgana? When you've robbed him of everything he is and you leave him nothing but an empty shell? You have already done enough damage to him that'll last a life time. You keep calling him my man servant; maybe he was once but he is not anymore. He isn't that same Merlin. I just wish that you could that but it seems that you are too blinded by hate that you can't see that you have already destroyed him and you are now trying to set fire to the pieces." Arthur says.

"Destroyed him? I've done no such thing. Merlin's self-destructive behavior is his own doing. I simply worked for his family, that's all! Even in this world he attacked me from the moment he met me. I didn't even know who I was and he hated me. How is this, my fault? Do you think you're the only one dealing with your memories coming back?"

She will not let him know that her sole purpose at Sterling-Bosch was to find Merlin and destroy him. He is simple minded, never realizing that she and Morgause are the only ones who have had their memories the whole time. What a daft fool…

"I am not talking about his self-destructive behavior and you know it! The marks you left on him were there under the skin. It was you who caused him to become what he is in this world. If Merlin did attack you it was only in self-defense, and don't give me that 'memories coming back' bull because I have reason to believe that it was you who orchestrated this whole mess in the first place!" Arthur says as he strides over to Morgana. He almost wanted to poison her himself but he knew that it wasn't the right thing to do.

"You've hurt Merlin enough Morgana. It's time to stop before you do something that you are going to regret. You know, it may not seem like it but I am worried about you. You are trying so hard to destroy my friend that I fear you will destroy yourself in the process."

She snickers at him. "Do not take me for a fool Arthur. I know who you care for and I am surely not on that list."

The blood stone shimmered as the pain and realization of her words settled on her shoulders. She had taken a different path, she had moved into a different area…and he had chosen servants over her. Her jaw is set but her body desires to tremble. To be sad for just a moment, the blood stone shimmers to keep the wretched thoughts at bay. She puts her water down.

"I remember a time long ago where I was pushing you to do the right thing Arthur…and I wonder. What would it be like if you didn't have those around you to make the hard decisions for you? I know I could have but could you…"

She turns to him, her eyes judging his stature.

"You should go. Your precious manservant is waiting for you I'm sure. I have no more time for this." The bloodstone rages against her breast. Her eyes close…she will not cry.

"Fine but just so you know I really did care for you…in the beginning. Growing up you were like my best friend; you seemed to really understand me. Now…it's like I don't even know you at all." Arthur says. He turns and grabs the papers that had originally been stolen.

"Keep your copies. Pour over them all you want, it won't help you to find it." He says. Turning around Arthur leaves Morgana's hotel room in a bit of a rush. He goes outside and get's on his ATV; firing up the engine moments later.

He considered going straight back to the cabin but he had told Merlin he was going to get a new cellphone so after a fifteen minute stop at the local T-Mobile store, Arthur heads back to the cabin; new cellphone in his pocket.

Parking the ATV back in the shelter/work room, Arthur secures it before reclosing and locking the door. He stands there for a moment and sighs. Shaking his head he then walks back inside the cabin and shuts the door.

"Merlin?" he calls.


	41. Chapter 40: Bedtime Blues

After Bradley had left the bathroom and the cabin, Marty had stayed in the bathroom for a while. He first stood in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection. His eyes looked sunken and there was an unhallowed look glinting in his eyes. Those blue orbs looked older than their years – internalized fears, regrets, self-loathing, and sadness was all there for the world to see. The flawed emotional veins ran deep and hung on with desperation. Marty's face was thin and pale. Dirt covered his nose, cheeks, and chin and sweat made trails in the grime. Stripping off his black t-shirt, he stared at his scrawny body. It was just as pale as his face. Thin scars from both falling off his bike and being injured in his time within Camelot and Ealdor covered his frame. To him, they represented each lie he'd told or each sacrifice he'd faced; to look upon his frame bright him great shame.

Bowing his head, he looked at his boots and black jeans. Kicking the shoes off, he undid the button and let the pants pool around his feet. Stripping his briefs off, he turned on the water. With shaking legs, Marty stepped into the water and closed the shower curtain.

Its warmth settled into his bones and relaxed his muscles. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the brief moment of his body feeling normal. Standing under the spray, he soaped his hair and body as he thought about the question Bradley had presented him before going off to find a mobile phone. That comment seemed odd because it was nearly midnight and he didn't know of any place open at this time of night.

It also seemed odd that Bradley had practically shoved the art supplies at him. Now, he loves doing art. Marty planned to do a lot of it while they were here. But, it seemed late to start a project and his hands didn't feel steady enough to try to make something. The man was certain he'd end up spilling paint if he had tried.

Once the water was running cool, Marty stepped from the shower. Drying off, he wraps a towel around his waist. After throwing the dirty clothes in the hamper (he did have some manners) he went to his bag and pulled out a pair of thin sweat-pants, new underwear, and a baggy shirt with a Rolling Stones decal on it. Putting all the clothes on and depositing the towel in the hamper Marty curled up on the couch. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and stared at the fireplace, which he lit with his magic.

Hearing the door open, he looked over at it. "Yeah. I'm here," he answered. He pushed himself off the couch and got his bag of medicine. Marty just realized he was past due. Taking the bottle of anti-depressant, he pours one into his hand. The guy pops it into his mouth and dry swallows it. Making a face, he gets a methadone. Marty also swallows this dry. Relieved to be done with it, he flops back onto the couch and wraps the blanket back around him. "Did you find a phone… or even a place open?"

Arthur goes in to the living room, finding Merlin curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket.

"Huh? Oh...yeah...T-Mobile; great store when you want it to be." Arthur replies. He hadn't even really noticed how late it had been until Merlin had said something about it.

Sitting down on the couch Arthur took out the folder of papers he had nabbed from Morgana's apartment, and handed them to Merlin. "It's your father's work. At the hospital Gavin gave it to me but Morgana broke in and managed to steal it before I really got a chance to look them over. When I went out, I don't know how but I wound up at her hotel room. We talked and she showed me the papers. Merlin, they are after whatever your father was working on; you mentioned a device before. I think it's important that we find this device before they do." Arthur says.

Arthur was very unsure whether Merlin would care or not. It was his father's work, but after everything that had happened, Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Merlin wanted to just sit back and let things happen.

Marty nodded. "Good," whispered the young man. He pulled the blanket closer around his bony shoulders. He found himself to be so cold. In fact, he was shivering hard enough for his teeth to chatter together a little bit and his whole body shook. The coldness he had was causing goose bumps to raise over his arms and his muscles ache.

When Bradley offered him a packet, he stuck his hand out of the blanket and sat it on the coffee table. Then, he drew the blanket closer around him. "I'll…I'll look later, Bradley," he whispered.

The use of the name was no accident. He figured as long as they were still in this century they should still using the names they were given. People might give him a weird look if he started calling the others Lancelot or Morgana or some other name from that time. At least Arthur had a name that could pass in this world.

"How did he get it? Why was he snooping through my father's account? I didn't give anyone permission," Marty said. He sat straight up at the news. His eyes were wide. "What a minute, you were at Morgana's…Ana's? Why? What did you talk about? And how you got there was magic. She enchanted you earlier. Maybe when she kissed me…" Merlin shivered in repulsion. The young man wished she'd stop.

Martin shook his head. He wondered if Bradley knew who worked for Ana because Marty hadn't figured it out yet. "Ana's not. Whoever's working with is. Who would it be? Mordred? No…he was just a child. Cenred? I don't think so. That was Morgause's man. Wait a minute, Morgause.

"Ana's just out to destroy me. She hates me for what I did to her and I don't blame her. But, Morgause is out to destroy Camelot. With us here…think of the chaos the city's under right now. It has no King or Knights or anyone. She wants us to stay here, doesn't she?

Martin took a deep breath and sighed. "His life's work was to understand time travel and to create a machine to do it. He used to be away for weeks. Sometimes, my dad would clue us in...well clue me in. He'd tell me that we shouldn't be here in this era and that he had a machine to fix it all. My dad didn't say more. But, he did entrust me his papers on the thing," Marty said. "We do need to find it. The sooner the better and maybe we can get home."

Moving seemed impossible, but he tried. Every muscle protested and before he knew it, he's crumpled to the floor. Struggling, he pushed himself up and got back on the couch. Marty leaned his head against the back as tears of frustration fell.

"Yes I was at Morgana's. To be honest with you I wish I hadn't gone but...I guess it was as you said, I was enchanted or...something like that. We talked about...you and what happened between you and her. She even..." Arthur pauses, bites his lip and shakes his head a little before plunging on ahead, "she showed me what happened; with the poison. It wasn't a flashback or anything like that it was...different. We were back in Camelot only Morgana wasn't Morgana, she was Gwen. There wasn't any poison involved but...I went through what she went through. Let me tell you, never in my life have I been more thankful for the ability to breathe than I was when I woke up."

Arthur watched Merlin try to stand, sink to the floor and then make his way back on to the couch. "We need to get to that machine first. If Morgana and whomever she is working with get to it first...we can more than likely kiss Camelot goodbye as well as our hopes of ever returning." Arthur says.

He is silent for a moment before speaking again. "There is one good thing about this; Gavin told me the general location of the machine was here in Scafell Pike; somewhere. I've been coming here for many years, I know the lay of the land so to speak. I doubt Morgana would know the Pike, but even so...the sooner we find this thing the better."

He shook his head. "That was dangerous. What if she'd tried to kill you or torture you or something. I didn't know. I couldn't have known. It would've been the Sophia incident all over again," Marty whispered. "Umm…you were once enchanted, Arthur. You were even set to marry a girl named Sophia. It turned out her and her father were sidhe and needed you as a sacrifice. She enchanted you. You almost drown during the ceremony. You would've too, if I hadn't found you. Gaius and I told you she ran off."

Merlin looked down and pressed his lips together. "You hate me for that…don't you? I don't blame you. It was the only way. Kilgharrah told me that the only way to end the curse was to destroy the source of the magic. I didn't want to. I put it off to the last second, but in the end there was nothing else I could do. So I put hemlock in the water and gave to her. I hated myself so much. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even look directly at her. I remember just shutting down and trying not to cry."

He sighed and wiped the tears away. "That was magic. It was all magic – how she did that and showed you those things. I sometimes wonder if Morgause had used that transforming spell to show you your mother. It's not my area. They are priestesses of the religion. I'm not. I'm different."

"Yeah, we do. But, Bradley…I can't do it tonight. I haven't slept in two days. My body's coming down from detox. I feel better than I did, but I can't do it tonight," Marty said with a sigh. "I want to. But, I think by tomorrow I'll be more able bodied."

He fiddled with the blanket. "One good thing about my magic is it seems to protect me from actually dying. It also seems to speed up recovery," the young man mused.

Martin nodded. "That's good," he sighed. "Mountains…we need to go to the mountains. My dad always talked about them. It was as if they were a hint," he said.

"Sophia...hmm...I do seem to remember a Sophia..." Arthur murmurs. Suddenly his eyes grow bigger as he snaps his fingers. "Wasn't that the incident where you told me you knocked me out with a block of wood?" He raises a hand to his head as if he could suddenly feel a lump on his head.

After a moment he lowers his hand. "You are right, get some sleep. I know you need it."

He eyes the fireplace, watching the flames. "Cold?" he asks.

Arthur stands up for a minute, obviously thinking about something. "Do you want something warm to drink? Father always keeps hot chocolate and coffee in the cupboard. I can make you some if you want; always helps me wind down if I can't sleep." he says.

He nodded. "Yeah. She was pretty... Long, blond hair, round face, wore velvet, carried a staff," Marty said. "It was. I don't remember what my excuse was, but I did say that. I didn't know what else to tell you. I don't think you'd believe me if I had told the real story. I wouldn't have believed me. I ended up blowing them up with one of their magic staffs."

Marty realized what had come out of his mouth. "I'm a horrible person," he said, biting his lip. "I killed two people then, although they were going to kill you. My life is so complicated, did you know that?"

"You need sleep too," Marty said through chattering teeth. "I'll try. My legs really hurt. They're cramping." Under the blanket, he rubbed his legs furiously. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah...Very cold even with the blanket and fire. I lit that...magically. It won't go out," he explained. "At some point I'll burn up and start sweating. Right now, my body has no temperature control. It will once the detox is over. I think it's about done. Ive stayed cold for an hour or more. The changes were changing every five minutes."

He shrugged. "Sure. Chocolate please. Never had any as a servant," he admits. "And may I have another blanket. I think I'll stay here for the night."

"Killing is never fun or easy but when it came to Sophia...I'm glad you did it. I wouldn't be standing here if you hadn't." Arthur says. He moves to the kitchen, opens up the cupboard and finds the Hershey's cocoa powder and the Cain granulated sugar.

Taking both of those out, he puts them on the counter, then turns on the hot water. Waiting for the water to heat up, Arthur puts three and a half scoops of the cocoa powder in to a small metal bucket, followed by two scoops of sugar. Next he puts this mixture under the now hot water, wetting it down just enough so that he can mix it in to a thick paste.

Next Arthur puts the metal bucket on the stove and turns the gas stove on. The pilot light comes on and after a few minutes the chocolate paste is becoming hot. Going to the fridge Arthur opens it and pulls out an unopened 1 gallon bottle of milk. It was fresh, unopened and cold; the cabin caretaker had obviously restocked the fridge before they had arrived.

Opening up the milk Arthur pours it in to the bucket until it was almost overflowing. Screwing the cap on he places the milk back in the fridge before stirring the cocoa. Once it was hot he took down two grey mugs from the shelf and filled the both of them with cocoa. Going back in to the living room he places the mugs down on the table. "Now, do you want a blanket or a sleeping bag? We got both." Arthur asks.

The black-haired man shook his head. "No. I hate it. She and Aufric were not the first I killed, nor were they the last. I'm not a fighter. I came from a farming village. Fighting isn't in our blood. I don't like it. Actually, that's an understatement. I hate it. When I'm faced with saving your or Camelot or both….I don't think about what I'm doing. I don't think about my safety. I don't think. I just act on instinct. Later, it just makes me sick."

"There's a lot of times that you could've died and didn't because I intervened. Did you know that quite a few assassins enter the tourney's and try to skewer you? Tristan De Bois…the Black Knight, Valiant, Myror…those are the main people I can think of. Then, there were other times when they tried to attack, but it didn't happen in tournaments, or there were magical creatures attacking," Marty rambled. "I'm sure if we go back there will be many more times and I will continue being your servant until the day I die."

He wondered if Bradley remembered that line. It had been a turning point. Arthur had nearly died and then when Merlin had bargained with Nimueh both his mother and Gaius had nearly paid the price. But, in the end it had been Nimueh, although Merlin had been willing to sacrifice himself for that.

Marty drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. He stares at the cups, but doesn't take one of them. "Another blanket's fine," he replied.

"Do you really want to go back? What do you think it'll be like," he asked. "You know you'll have to keep my secret now, right? Uther or the other knights can't find out. I hate that I have to hide my true nature…my true self. I hate that others have to keep my secret. Gaius knows and Lancelot knows too by the way. I saved both of them with….magic."

"Fighting may not be in your blood," Arthur begins as he walks up the stairs a little, "but when it came down to your village fighting against Kanen or losing all of Ealdor's crops to him, the villagers stepped and defended what was theirs."

Arthur goes in to one of the bedrooms and takes a thick brown blanket off of the bed and brought it downstairs. "Here," he offers, handing the blanket over.

Arthur moves and sits down on the edge of the table, picking up the untouched mug of cocoa.

"Going back; a part of me wants to. Camelot is my home after all and the people they count on us; my father...myself...the Knights. They count on us to protect them. Who do they have to protect them if we are here? And, I realize I'd have to keep your secret. I don't want to see your head on the chopping block if we get back anymore than you would." he says.

Marty's legs and feet could not stop moving, even though he was sitting. It was irritating. Cautiously, the dark-haired man drew them up to his torso. Wrapping arms his around his knees, Marty rested his head on the tops of his knees and looked at Bradley. The young man's lips turn down in a pensive frown.

"I don't remember that," Martin states. "That moment is _blocked_from my mind. It's a gray blur. I don't know how to explain it. I know the memory is there, but it's all foggy. I couldn't tell you one detail about the memory although flashes of a dust storm come into my mind.

"Thanks," he whispered. Marty took the blanket and wrapped it around himself. He tucked it under his can so that the only thing sticking out was his head. Still, he was cold. "I hate the cold and being cold," he muttered as he leaned forward and got the mug of hot chocolate.

He nodded. "I miss the connections I had. I miss the relationship with my mother and Gaius. But, this place isn't so bad, I guess. I got to know my dad in this world," Marty replied. He looked sad as he poke. The place had brought him so much trouble, too. "They are here, a majority of them are. I know Lancelot is. Could Gwaine, Leon, Elyan, and Percival also be in London and we don't know it?"

Marty made a face. "I hate secrets. I hate hiding who I am. I hate relying on others to keep my secret. And, I hate that those who do know are in danger if it ever comes out," he muttered. "But, I do want to keep my head on my shoulders."

"When we go for the machine, what do you think we will face? Knowing my father, it will be treacherous and hard to work through," he said, sipping on the drink. Marty made a funny face and coughed. "It's rich. No wonder the royals drink it. It's good, but rich... Anyway, back to the trip to find the machine. I think we should start at the caves."

"I don't know. Given that it is your father we are talking about it could be anything. To tell you the truth many of the locals think the area around here is haunted. Many of them capture footage of things that they can't explain. I always thought that it was fake but most of their footage does come from the cave system." Arthur said.

He inwardly gave some thought to Marty's previous statement about the Knights. Could they all really be in this time too?

"You know, if Gaius and Lancelot, Morgana and potentially Morgause are here we have to expect that the others are here too. Who knows, maybe Gavin is Gwaine!" Arthur muttered. That was meant to be a joke but the second it left his mouth he pictured Gavin dressed up as a Knight and it did fit!

Shaking his head to get that image out of his mind, he turned back to Marty.

"I'm rambling here. The caves, yeah...not many people know this and fewer believe it but the caves run for miles. Up and over, down and under and straight through the Pike. Some have even claimed that there is a sort of oasis; a bit of the forest area that seems to be untouched by time. Of course, no one has ever really seen it and those that have well..." Arthur made a circular motion with his index finger as he pointed towards his head.

"I don't know either," he admitted. "My father was smart. He was also protective of his inventions. They were his life's work and he would have done anything to protect them."

He drummed his fingers against the mug as he thought about what it could be. He was at a loss. "Dad was interested in genetics, nature, time travel, and the human psyche. Does that help," he offered. "He did something extreme to protect his machine. Do you think what was filmed could be part of it or do you still think they were faked?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah, we do," he agreed. "I wonder how we will all get back especially if we aren't there? Maybe it will do something special? Like flash us all back I'm time. However, would we be bringing all of London with us?"

He nodded. "I see. Some thought my father was touched I'm the head, too. He was just smarter than most and when he spoke, it showed. That place does sound like the right spot. My dad would had chosen something like that."

Marty looked at the clock. "You better get some sleep. Do you mind if I borrow your mobile? I need to make a call," he asked.

"I'm sure your father would have thought of that. Perhaps there is some sort of marker or something that those of us from that time have and everyone else doesn't?" Arthur murmurs, shrugging his shoulders a little for emphasis.

He stifles a yawn. It is late and they would need all of the rest and energy they can get if they were to hopefully beat Morgana to the machine.

Arthur nods his head and digs his new cellphone out of his pocket. He hits a button and studies the battery meter for a moment before handing it over to Marty.

"Just make sure you put it on the charger once you are done. Oh, and listen to your own advice pal. Can't have you collapsing in the morning, not if we want to find this machine first." Arthur says with a slight chuckle. Turning he then walks up the stairs and to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.


	42. Chapter 41: Revenge

She throws the wineglass against the window in rage. Her eyes menacing as the deep red liquid cascades down the windowsill and seeps into the carpet. Her eyebrow quirks, she does not enjoy it when her plans do not go according to her wishes. She takes a slow even breath as she walks over to the small mini-fridge. She grabs for the port and a new glass, refilling the cup. She swishes the _blood_ red liquid around, admiring how it looks in her goblet and on the wall. It reminds her of _death_, she smiles.

She walks over to her bed, finding her phone blinking. She opens up the screen and disgust colors her features. It is a text from the sitter, telling her how well Anubis is doing and what a beautiful and wonderful dog he is. Her gaze is twisted and disapproving. Her mind filtering back to how she used to love information such as this, to know the wonderful animal she had and swoon over those who thought him perfect.

She deletes the offensive message and the screen goes back to its home, a idiotic picture of her and Anubis in the park, his spiked collar making him look more destructive than he is. Her eyebrow quirks suddenly as she remembers that her faithful companion would rather destroy another human being than allow her to be harmed. A twisted look overtakes her features as she imagines him ripping off Marty's arm while the man begs for him to stop. She can almost taste the blood seeping out of his sink. The blood stone rages against her breast, desperate to release the suppressed emotions. Her smile is dark, _maybe I should get Anubis up here..._

She walks away from the bed, the stone raging against the suppression. She steps in front of the mirror, checking her face, her eyes dropping to the corner of her reflection. There she is, curled up in a ball, the same small white dress on her body, her legs pulled up and her face buried into her knees. Ana knows she is crying, she snickers at her.

"Now don't be like that little tiger, you should not feel such ridiculous emotions."

Morgana lifts her head, her eyes watering, her lip trembling.

"But I don't want to hurt them...I love my brother...I love...I love..."

"Oh come now don't be like that! He _poisoned_ you, or have you forgotten?"

The girl hiccups, desperate to understand.

"You don't love anyone, you may not even love your sister. You are to rule Camelot, and destroy Arthur and his pathetic servant Merlin. Who knows, maybe we can keep the magical pain in the ass as a pet. You do remember how he kept his magic from you, don't you?"

Morgana's eyes widen then the lids slowly come down in a threatening look. She stands, her jaw set, her eyes darkening.

"Good little tiger, we don't love anything...we just love revenge."

"Revenge..."

Morgana's eyes dilate, the same twisted looking matching Ana's. Ana turns from the mirror and laughs when she is met with an empty room.


	43. Chapter 42: The Call

Marty nodded. "Yeah, he probably would have. He was a thorough man and a smart one too," he agreed. The young man shrugged. "I don't know." Peering under his blanket, he looked at his arms; Marty saw nothing.

When handed the phone, he took it. Then, Marty placed the mobile on the table. "I will," he replied. "I'll try to sleep. I don't know if it'll happen or not."

He watched as Bradley went upstairs to bed. Then, Marty twirled around so that he could plant his feet on the floor and stare directly at the fireplace. The young man had been sitting with his back against the armrest. He leaned forward, the blanket slipped off his shoulder he did. Placing the mug of hot chocolate down, Martin grabbed the cell phone he'd asked Bradley to leave.

Holding it between both hands, he tapped his feet on the floor. He was nervous. What would his mother say? Would she just hang up after he said, 'Hi mum.'? Would she let him talk and then reprimand him for calling? Both options seemed likely. She sure didn't want to hear from him; Harriet had made it clear. However, he had to try. Marty was trying to grow, trying to connect, trying to get better. He thought that reaching out to his mother would be a big step in his recovery. He also knew rejection would be very hard to handle.

Clicking the button, the screen lit up. Typing in most of the numbers, he paused. There was just one number left before he had to hit the green phone button to make a call. "Just do it," Marty whispered. Taking a deep breath, he punched the number and hit the call button. The young man hoped his mum was awake – it was late after all.

She was sitting near her fireplace, the flames danced over her face as a soft drizzle bounced off of the window. She drank her wine, the deep expensive port sliding down her throat. She is tired this night, it seemed as if the world was against Harriet. She brings the glass to her lips, wondering why the hell she sent her servants away, she needs someone to pour her another glass in a moment.

Her phone vibrates, she sighs dramatically as she brings the screen to her nose. She wrinkles her lips in disgust as she answer. "I don't have money for you Marty, whatever you want is not something I am willing to give."

"Nice to hear you to mum," he muttered. "How did you know it was me? I don't have a mobile. I'm borrowing a friend's phone."

Marty stopped speaking. He tapped his feet on the floor. The guy felt like pacing, but figured he'd end up on the ground if he did, thus he stayed in his spot on the couch.

"I didn't call you to ask for money," Marty continued. "Mum, I messed up. I really messed up." He was starting to whine – he knew it and didn't care.

Harriet rolled her eyes. She is not a stupid woman, her brother would never call her at such a ghastly hour and her son is so inconsiderate that he had driven away all of her other friends. She sips her wine, her eyes impassive at his words.

"Stop whining Martin, I raised you better than that...though that obviously doesn't mean anything I suppose...I mean have you seen you?"

Marty clamped his mouth shut. He bowed his head and stared at his knees. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Marty meant the apology. There was no sarcasm in his voice, as there usually was when he expressed regret.

She waits a breath as he speaks, her eyes roll. "Oh, you messed up, my dear? What a surprise indeed." Her voice turns hard. "I hope it doesn't have to do with your father's bike. I will confiscate it from you. Ana informed me that you had it again. I should thank her for getting it back to you so quickly...I guess the woman does have her uses."

"Yeah, I know. I don't like what I've seen. I really hate myself right now, mum," Martin admitted. He took a deep breath. "This isn't easy, you know. To call you. I know you didn't…you don't want to hear from me. I just…I just had to call."

Her voice goes from sarcastic to bored, her son must be high to have called her...she has no love loss for him in this moment. He almost destroyed the last piece of her husband; she had always hoped he would never go that far...how wrong she has been.

He couldn't help cock his eyebrow when she threatened to confiscate the bike. "Can you even do that, mum? I mean, it's my motorbike. Dad willed it to me," Marty whispered. "It doesn't matter. And, it wasn't her that got it back to me. It was Bradley Pendleton and Lance…someone or other. I don't know his name. They hid it after Ana threatened to take it from me."

"Mum, I was clean for three months. Then, I used again. I stole from Bradley and used," he admitted. "But, I'm off again. Been clean for three days – almost. I'm still detoxing."

He felt tears in his throat. "Mum, I'm sorry. I really am. A month ago, after I woke up from the first accident, I left the hospital to check on my bike. But, I ended up saving Bradley's life. Then, I hit my head. I had a brain bleed…a stroke because of it. I had surgery. And everything's been so hard after that. I'm clumsy. I forget stuff. I can't do anything without having to nap," Marty rambled.

Harriett's eyes darken as she swishes her wine, listening to her son babble on. This is not his first apology...always 'mum I'm sorry' or 'mum I really have changed this time'...poor Harriet had heard it all. She used to usher him into her arms when he said such things, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his crown, telling him that his mummy has him and she will protect him. That went on for too long, and she kicked him out of her life for a reason. She sighs.

"Oh dear Martin don't be dramatic, I really hate it when you have a pity party on yourself. Don't tell me what you've done wrong, change. So you've been clean for three months? How did that work for you? Probably itched to get another hit every day."

He nodded even though she couldn't see it. He felt like telling her he was trying to change. He felt like telling her that this call was all part of his changing. But, he didn't. "I was clean, yeah. It wasn't easy, mum. It honestly was the hardest thing. I drew a lot. I tried to fight. I really did," Marty said.

She listens to his words about the bike. "Martin I don't think you understand your mummy right now, that bike, that EVERYTHING belonged to me. I gave it to you; your father willed it to you yes, but under my guidance. He knew how messed up you were after your little hussy of a girlfriend died." She pauses for a moment; Fay entering her mind, a part of her blames the young tramp for this.

"Mum, I'm not stupid. I read the will. It doesn't say anywhere in that document that you can take it at any time you see fit," Marty said. "Don't you talk about Fay like that! She was a good girl. I loved her. Of course, I was messed up after she died, but I wasn't using. I didn't start using until after dad was killed. But, I guess you were too busy to notice that though."

Harriet was quiet as her son spoke, her eyes sharp and powerful as he speaks of Fey, the woman has no love loss for the dead girl. "Honestly Martin, you may have read the will but you don't understand half the things it said. You, my lovely boy, are an idiot, I have the best lawyers in the world, I can get that bike tomorrow if I needed too. I just need to send in your police report. You seriously expect me to believe that you started using after he died? People don't just start using randomly...I'm sure that that tramp and poor Will all did your drugs together. I loved that boy like he was my own son but I know what you all are capable of."

"I may not be a legal expert, but I understand titles to vehicles. The title is under my name. It's only under my name. I'd have to sell you the motorbike for you to get it," growled Marty. "Really, mum, it was after dad's death. I'd lost so many people. People have breaking points. His death was mine. You know I held him while he died! I was the only one there. Fay and Willie never would've touched the stuff and they didn't. Willie pushed boundaries, but never crossed them."

"Oh well look at that my son, you stole from a cop. I think I've heard of him...he was a good officer. I would ask why you did it but I already know the answer...you've stolen from me enough in the past."

Her jaw sets when he mentions the surgery. "Oh Martin...of course I know about your surgery, I called Ana and told her to go check on you. I hope she did her job; the little hussy has her own agenda. I am sorry if she did upset you, I really just wanted her to get the bike away from you for a time, so you could get away from temptation...I can clearly see I was wrong."

Marty pressed his lips together. "I wish you hadn't sent her. She practically attacked me! For some reason, she wanted to kiss me and wouldn't stop even when I begged her to," Marty said. "Even Bradley had to step in. She's dangerous, you know that right?"

Marty paused as tears fell. "Then, I heard about my bike and you know what happened. But, that's not everything," he whispered. "I remembered something I did. It was horrible. Mum, I tried to commit suicide the other day. I went to Lambeth Bridge. I was ready to jump. I got hit by water and ended up falling in. I messed up. I really messed mum."

Her heart clenches as he tells her of his attempted suicide...Harriet has tried to iron herself against her sons antics, but she is still his mother, she still remembers giving birth to him. A stray tear makes its way to her eye; she does not let her breath hitch as she speaks.

"Martin...you have done many foolish things my son, but this truly breaks my heart. I love you Martin...what could you have possibly done to drive you to do something so horrendous?"

"I betrayed a friend," Marty said, "in the worst way possible. I lied to her. I lied to her about what I was when I could've helped her. And, I gave her…I gave her poison. And, I've done other bad things to protect people. But, it didn't happen in this life."

"She remembers too. Ana was the person I betrayed. She's been tracking me for two years now. She and someone else and it's why I got in the wreck. I was trying avoid getting killed, like dad." Marty closed his eyes as he remembered seeing his father surrounded by the pool of blood. "Mum, dad was right about us not belonging in this time. We belong way back. You should be in Ealdor and I should be the servant to Prince Arthur," he said. Marty closed his eyes. His mother probably thought he was crazy.

"Mum, do you remember anything odd? Do you remember coming to Camelot really sick one time and me having to go to the Isle of the Blessed to make things right or do you remember coming to Camelot to ask for help because Ealdor was going to be stripped of all of its food? Do you remember the Purge and keeping a man named Balinor safe?"

"I know I was doing those things to protect my friends and family and Camelot, but I hated myself. I didn't want to live anymore," Martin stated. "I felt like I couldn't do anything. I couldn't take care of my bike. I couldn't save Fay or Willie or dad. Every time I try something, I mess up. I felt worthless and alone and scared. I hated myself. And I was tired, mum….and I'm sorry."

She listens as he talks about Ana, her eyes confused for a moment. "Martin you are not making any sense! One minute you are chastising the woman the next you are saying you are the one to put her there? What is it? You can't have it both ways, I personally see the evil in that girl but honestly...you expect me to believe that one minute it is her fault the next it is yours. You have done some awful things Martin...please tell me you haven't killed her...please tell me you haven't crossed that line. I don't like Ana as much as the next person but she is a powerful woman, she gets things completed. I know you have had your differences in the past but she always came through for me...please..."

Martin took a deep breath. "She didn't die, mum. She could've, but she didn't," Marty whispered. "She's the one trying to kill me now, though. She and someone else – they want me dead like dad. They want his research and they want revenge. I know it doesn't make sense. I'm still trying to figure everything out for myself."

She goes silent as he starts to ramble, starts to speak nonsense. Her eyes go wide, her teeth clench. "You are high aren't you! How dare you call me when you are drugged up! Hallucinations now? Do you think your mother is stupid enough to do drugs? I am calling Ana to warn her of your sick delusions, to stay away from you in fear of her life, you are a danger to yourself and other Martin...how dare you talk to me when you are high. I am your mother, I am obligated to love you, but I will not like you Martin Mysak, and I will certainly not condone this behavior...you have been reading too many Arthurian legends...you disgust me my son."

"Mother! I'm not high. I've quit the stuff. I'm trying to fix myself. I'm using doctor prescribed methadone and an antidepressant. Call Gael. He'll tell you. He prescribed them to me," Martin whispered. "I'm in danger, but not because of myself. It's Ana! She's broken in twice. She's nearly killed Bradley. Please, believe me, mum. If you don't, talk to Bradley."

She slams her finger into the end button, her blood boiling. She cannot believe he would do such a thing! How dare he call her when he is high...how dare he rile her feelings up and make her desperate for her once son! She is a fool to believe anything he just said. Her teeth grind, her thumb sliding through her contacts, she finds the one she needs. She may love her son...but she will not allow him to humiliate her.

"Ana dear...you best pick up you little bitch..." He closed the phone and leaned his head back. That did not go well. Tears fall down his cheeks and he curls up into a ball.

She sighs, her emotions wish to be high tonight, but fortunately the blood stone has kept them at bay. She looks over to the clock, it is only 9 and here she is, alone in her hotel room. She had cleaned up quickly, she touches the helm of her soft dress. She brings the wine to her lips again when her phone goes off. She furrows her brow at the device, wondering who had the gall to call her at such an hour. Her eyes light up when she glances at the caller-ID.

"Mrs. Mysak Hi..."

It takes but a moment for the woman to tell her everything. The twisted grin growing on her face the more the woman speaks. What a delicious turn of events...

"Oh yes Mrs. Mysak I am sure to watch out for myself...yes I know where the bike is...no I will not touch it until your lawyers have drafted an appeal to the will...of course ma'am I will be beyond careful. Thank you so much for the call."

"Ana, just remember that my son is dangerous right now...I may not like you but I don't wish for anyone else to become harmed from his stupidity."

"Understood, have a nice night Mrs. Mysak."

She quickly hangs up the phone as she runs to her closet. She changes quickly into her dark skinny jeans, her strappy high heels, the designer red v-neck secured under her tight gucci leather jacket. She pushes her phone into her pocked as she grabs for her helmet...she is so happy she did not go to sleep. She makes her way down the stairs to her bike, quickly mounting the sleep motorcycle and driving off.


	44. Chapter 43: Another Meeting

It takes her about twenty minutes to get to her brother's cabin, the adrenalin pumping in her veins. The blood stone pulsates under her jacket, desperate for her emotions to be released. She walks regally up to the window, and spies him sitting on the coach, kitty-cornered from her. Her eyes glow as she unlocks the window, slowly pushing it up and sitting on the windowsill. Her eyes are dark as she looks at him, so pathetic, so...defeated. Her leg is pushed against the sill and the other hangs near the floor, dancing as the flames of the fireplace bounce off the alligator straps of her shoes. Her smile is twisted.

"Hello young warlock."

Marty had actually fallen asleep in the middle of his cry fest. It probably had been less than five minutes, but it was definitely more than he had had in the last three days. It sure didn't make him feel rested. In fact, when his eyes pop open, he feels drained and worn out. He feels alone - a pariah.

He frowns. What had woken him? There had been a noise. He was certain of it. It had been a tiny creek. It wasn't a major sound, but Marty thought it might be a life changing one.

Hearing Ana speak, he looks over towards the window. With weariness, he sighs. "You know, there's a door. It's unlocked," he tells her. His tone is bland and void of emotion. "Or do you just like coming through windows? I wouldn't think that would be easy in those heels."

He shifted on the couch. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead. His body apparently hadn't finished detoxing. He threw off the blankets. Looking at the fire, his eyes flash and the flames go down by half. Why hide now that she knew too?

"If you want to talk, don't just sit there. I'm not coming over there," he said. "I can't."

She smiles at his words, good it will make this so much more fun! She jumps from the window sill and walks over to him. Her eyes are dark and sinister. "I'm flattered Merlin, I picked out my shoes especially for you."

She sits down next to him, and carelessly throws her legs over his lap. She looks to the mirror in the corner, her eyebrow raising at her reflection. She hopes the double image is just a trick of the light. She leans on her hand as it is propped up against the back of the coach. Her look sinister and twisted as the flames dance across her skin.

"You know your mother called me tonight...warning me to stay away from you. She even said that she has lawyers writing up drafts right now to confiscate your precious bike from you." Her look is sinister, her eyes devious.

"She told me how disgusted you are when I kiss you...I only recall doing it twice...or were the other times in those devious fantasies you have about me Marty?"

Marty frowns. He isn't quite sure how to respond. "Should that impress me," he asked quietly. Marty doesn't care about shoes – he never did. Fay always tried to get him to care about her shoes, but she never succeeded. He wasn't a practical man for the most part, but he was practical about shoes. They should be usable and Marty wasn't sure how high heels could be considered useful. Marty would fall on his face in those.

"Get off me," he muttered. Marty shifted and pushed his legs off his lap. "Just don't do that. No mind tricks. No trying to control me. Got it?" Marty grits his teeth. He doesn't know how he can handle or deal with Ana right now, but he guesses he'll have to.

Marty rolled his eyes. "Figures. I won't sign it or the new title," he said. "And I won't relent. Nor will I sell her the bike. It's mine and no one else's."

"Disgusted is an understatement. You were practically attacking me in the hospital. You were giving an unwilling and recovering client kisses. That could be seen as assault and I could press charges. I had an officer of the law in the room as a witness," Marty points out.

He glances at the fire and at the mirror beside it. A slight frown covers his face. What is that he sees? It almost looks like he sees two of Ana. Shaking his head, Marty looks over at her. "What do you want," he asks.

She smirks at him, moving her feet again to occupy his lap. She does not care, she is indifferent to this moment. She tilts her head to the side.

"I just want to have a friendly chat is all! Come now Merlin!...you know it is you who poisoned me, not the other way around. I should be more scared of you than you are of me!"

She laughs at him as he talks about his bike.

"Come now, you know the law doesn't work like that. She is going to contest your level of sanity not the will itself. It is easy to acquire someone's belongings that way. Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that. That, or she will claim that you owe her money for all the rehab you've had over the years...I believe there is a 5 year limit on pressuring charges for that? Anyway as long as you haven't told her that you belong in another timezone...oh wait..."

Her body burns at the contact between them. Her blood stone glowing under her shirt, she looks over the mirror. She sees Morgana crouching in the corner, her head lifting up. She had give the bitch a pep talk but apparently she didn't listen...she glares as Morgana looks up to Merlin, tears coming to her eyes. Ana wants to puke by the amount of...ugh _love_, radiating off of her old self. _Get it together Morgana_, her mind practically screams at her twin.

Marty pushes her legs aside again. Then, he draws his own legs up to his chest. Hugging them, he rests his chin against them. "I wouldn't call this friendly," he muttered. "And I'm not pretending...not now or ever. I am sorry for what I did! I truly am. Do you know how much I hate myself for that? Do you know how worthless I feel? Do you know it tore me up to do what I had to do back then? Did you know I couldn't look at you because my heart was breaking?"

"You were a pawn Morgana! You were being used by your sister to destroy Camelot. She cursed you. She made it so that in your presence, the city would fall asleep. Then, when everyone was gone she was going to swoop in and take the throne. And I was told the only way to stop that from happening was to destroy the origin of the spell. I didn't want to. You don't know how much I didn't want to. And then, I remembered it. It's why I almost jumped. I couldn't live with myself for that deed."

Marty clamped his mouth shut and shook his had. "She didn't pay. My uncle did. Besides, I don't stay in any program. There is less then 300 pounds in fees," he interjected. "I might have, but she'll remember. Like many of us have already done. It's only a matter of time. But, I don't want to talk about law stuff right now. It's late and it makes my head hurt."

She stands for a moment, slowly unzipping her jacket and placing it neatly on the coffee table. She sits on her knees, her head resting on her palm. She smirks at him, he is beyond idiotic. She can't help but laugh at his words.

"Heartbroken honestly?"

She can't help but grind her teeth, her blood stone faltering as her emotions filter through if only for a moment. She can't help herself, her reflection reacts, suddenly she is not even tempered but the emotional mess she was before. Her hand coming out to grab at her face, her one close to his.

"You have no idea you twit. You maybe have had the _luxury_of poisoning me, but you didn't get to be the one betrayed! To look into the eye of the man you loved and know how little he cared for you!"

She jumps from him suddenly as if he had scalded her, her own words feeling false. She should have never said that, she stands, her back to him. The blood stone rages, her mirror image screams at her, the confliction passing between the two until the emotionless settles. Morgana falls to the floor as Ana stands in rage. She takes a deep breath as she resumes her position on the coach, her emotions in check.

"What you say is inconsequential about my sister. The fact is _Merlin_, that in my time of need she was there for me. She took me under her wing, taught me, loved me. You may not understand this but I was a scared girl once, it was only when Morgause took the time to level my mind that I did not fear my powers. I do not agree with her tactics but I don't disown her because of them. I have no one left...not that you would know anything about that."

She looks to the mirror after her small words, her reflection's eyes pleading with her to understand, to release her. She will not, she is so close to triumph.

"I came here because your mother fears you Merlin. I guess I see her fears as pathetic...as if you could truly hurt anyone...then again..." Her smirk is dark.

His eyes track her every movement. His head moves slightly - back and forth - to follow the gestures she makes. Marty feels a little like a vulture stalking it's pray. Marty doesn't trust Ana. She is too unpredictable. It sets him on edge.

"You have no idea," he replied. "I didn't want todo what I did, do you understand that? I was given no choice. There was no other way and I hate it!" His voice is high and loud. The words were filled with regret and force.

He shook his head. "Then why do you keep coming around and tormenting me even more? Can't you just leave me alone," Marty asked. "If you hate to look at me there is no reason to come around."

"It was not a luxury. Listen again...I did not want to do it. I tried to find another way. Camelot was going to crumble. What else was I supposed to do? You would've been the only soul alive in the city," he points point. "Even you wouldn't want that, would you?"

As she jumps up, he presses himself against the couch. For a moment, Marty is scared. Even as she sits back down, he keeps his body pressed tightly against the cushion.

"She was there to use you. You were the link to Camelot and Morgause wanted to see it fall. She still does. It was all an act...a ruse...she had you wrapped around her finger," Marty said. "I don't understand that? Of course I do! Why would I send you to the Druids? Why would I come to their camp to warn you of Arthur's advances? Why I try to stop them? I do understand."

Marty looked at the fire. "I had no one, too. My mother, she is not of magic. She tired to understand and comfort me and she did, to an extent. No one in my village was of magic or used it. They called me a monster. I began to believe it. I was unnatural. And then, I come to Camelot. Low and behold, I find out I have to hide my gifts and I become Arthur's servent. I lived day in and day out in fear. Gaius tried to help. He showed me tricks to control my magic so I didn't lose my head. You see, I am like no other magic user. I was born with it. I came out being able to do magic. I don't even need words."

He shook his head and shrugged. "It is my duty to protect Arthur and Camelot. Actually, it is my destiny. It sickens me what I have to do, but I don't seem to have a choice. I fight it and I still end up having to step in," Marty whispered. "It's hard, Morgana. It really is."

She looks at him flabbergasted. Not only did he continue with the conversation as if she did not just spill her deepest secret he is acting like a total pansy about the situation. She wants to slap at his knees the way he crouches in the corner. It makes her blood boil, to not even have her love acknowledged. She does not know why she feels this way, the words were merely a slip of the tongue, worse he was not supposed to hear...yet his blatant dismissal of them boils her blood. He thinks he is so much better than her, as if he has done no wrong...what a fool he truly is.

Her blood stone rages against her chest, and for a moment her eyes soften to the girl she once was, the occupant who resides inside of her memories but never is allowed to speak.

"You are such a fool Merlin. you are so focused on your own gains that you do not see what is in front of you. You sit on this coach, pathetic, alone, vulnerable. The reality is that if you are in fact Emrys, you are on the most powerful sorcerers to ever live. Yet look at you, pathetic and alone on a coach."

She stands abruptly, her stance strong, for some reason Ana is in the mirror now, banging on the glass and begging to be released. It is odd that for a moment the blood stone has faltered and allowed the emotions of Morgana to filter through. The woman walks over to sit in front of Marty, and she softly puts a hand on his knee. Her eyes are sad as she speaks, a testament to who she used to be.

"You only focus what is in front of you, and not beyond. You never explored ways to save me, just took the words of a dragon and decided my execution was the only possible solution...did you even ask me? I might have willingly taken the poison myself to save Camelot...but that doesn't matter to you now does it? You think you are the only one born with these gifts...when in fact I have them as well. You are so quick to dismiss me...when I believe us to be kindred in more ways than one."

She stands abruptly and walks around the coffee table, the blood stone rages, angry that she had gotten out, if only for a moment. She speaks to him through the mirror, scared if she turns she would become the emotionless being she once was.

"You do not care for me, I can see that now. I may, in time, accept your feelings. Though, know this, my brother is who he is because of you. I grew up with Arthur, the prat of the man, and only once you came along did he change. You may dismiss me but know I have no one but my sister. I have no one else to be loyal too. You clearly do not feel as I feel for you...and I guess..in time I will find a way to accept that and move on my from my affections towards you. Affections you will not even comment upon."

She moves from the mirror, she knows her control over her body will only last a moment. A single tear, a moment of weakness is shown through the great sorceress as she sits on the side of the window sill. She may never get a second chance. She turns towards him, her face strong in spite of the sadness she feels.

"I love you Merlin, as much as I wish I didn't a part of me loved you for comforting me in my time of need. I care for you above all others, you may pass this buy but it is how I feel...the next time you see me I will not care for you. I will be cold and ruthless because of my own decisions. Just know...in this moment I love you. I wish I could show you my affections but you clearly are disgusted by me." Her hand comes up to cover her mouth.

"We will never have what could have been, and I guess that is my fault. I foolishly loved a manservant who I, hoped loved me in return. You clearly only thought of me as nothing...and I'm stupid enough to wonder what could have been if you were honest with me...bu I guess that doesn't matter as well. Your words are clear, you choose Camelot. I have seen your decision may times in my dreams...but it does not hurt any less."

She looks down at the ground. Defeated. The blood stone rages, it is only a moment before she loses herself to the emotionless woman again. Another tear slips.

"Goodbye Merlin."

Marty stares back at her. His eyes were wide and they were lined with dark circles of weariness. The expression in those blue orbs was soulful – there was a certain amount of unsettling wisdom within them. The look wrought by what he had experienced, he had seen, what he had done, and who he had lost. To just look into his eyes, one might think he was an old man. The scars of his life have aged him and his mind beyond his years.

"My own gains," he asks quietly. There is a bit of confusion that tinges the words. His eyebrows raise a little. "My focus was solely upon protecting Arthur, Camelot, and the creation of Albion. If you didn't notice I put my life on the line and nearly died more times than I can remember."

The young man closes his eyes and breaths out slowly as he shakes his head. "Indeed I am vulnerable. I am but a man. A man with great powers, but a man nonetheless. I am affected by what I have seen and what I have done," Marty replies. "I didn't ask to have these powers. I didn't ask to be _Emrys_. I was not consulted about my destiny or role in this life. I'm tired Ana. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of destiny. I'm just tired. Can you understand that?"

As Ana places a hand on his knee, he fights the urge to pull back. Instead, he keeps his gaze settled upon her. His lips are pressed into a thin line as he does so. "You were already too far gone. You were already under her spell," Marty interjects. "And there was little time to explain. Would you have believed me if I said, 'You sister has cursed you so that Camelot will fall and the only way to break it is if you'd die'? I don't think so. I wouldn't believe it."

He shrugged. "We can't change the past," Marty points out. "So, what does it matter what I think or not? I know I am sorry for what I did. I know I wish I hadn't done it. I regret not telling you about my powers earlier, but I was afraid of letting my secret out in the castle. I was afraid of Uther finding out and of execution and of how Arthur would react and Albion never coming into existence."

Marty looked in the mirror and he was sure he saw two Ana's. "I do not trust you. I do not trust your sister. I've seen what you have done and experienced what you have been doing in this world. For that, I do not care for you right now, no. You can change. You can cut ties with your sister," he remarks. "If you change, perhaps again I could see you as a friend – as I once did."

"Why should I comment on them? In this life you have all but destroyed me. In the old life, a relationship could never be. I am a servant back there – I always will be one. You're a Lady…a Princess," Marty said. "It would never work. Besides, there was only one girl for me and she's dead."

He feels cold. Wrapping one of the blankets around his shoulders, Marty watches Ana as she comes back over to him. "Before the events, I loved you…as a friend. I'm sorry," he said with a shrug. "It is not disgust I feel. It is sadness and pity and fear. I fear for myself and I fear for you."

"We will never have what you think could have been. As I said, I was a servant and you a Princess. Love between us never crossed my mind," Marty mutters. "I've wondered what would've happened if I had been honest too. But, again, it's futile because we cannot change the past." At who (well what) he chooses, he nods. "Yes, I do. I don't think I have a choice. Fate or destiny seems to push be towards it even when I fight it."

He nods to her. "Bye," Marty mutters.


	45. Chapter 44: Comfort

Despite his mind telling him not to go to bed, his body more or less willed it so a few minutes after Arthur entered his bedroom he flopped down on to his oak bed, feeling the soft mattress cushion under him. He closed his eyes, listening to the silence that was deafening and yet strangely comforting.

It had been a very long day filled with all sorts of trials and tribulations but now it was over with; his body was telling him it was over with. Within moments he was asleep but his mind was still active. It only left him alone; giving him a peaceful slumber for about ten minutes before it began to bombard him with images; images that he wished he could forget.

[Dream...]

_Bradley is standing in front of a weather worn gravestone. He is in a dark blue suit and tie; tears are streaming down his face. "Why did she have to die?" he chokes out, not even bothering to wipe his face._

_"She died because of you, you little brat! If it wasn't for you, then your mother would still be alive!"_

_Bradley turned to face his Grandfather who was standing three steps behind him. All of his relatives on his mother's side of the family didn't like him much; they never did because they all blamed him for the death of his mother._

_"I...I didn't mean to..." he choked out but his Grandfather interrupted him._

_"I just don't understand why it had to be my daughter. Why her and not you? If I was the doctor during that emergency c section I would have saved her...I wouldn't have given a damn about you!"_

_Being only seven at the time, Bradley hung his head in shame as he listened to his Grandfather berate him even more. It was true; if it wasn't for him then his mother would still be alive and it was at that moment that the little boy wished he could turn back the clock and bring his mother back, but he couldn't._

_"Bradley."_

_Glancing towards the parking lot of the cemetery Bradley saw a plain white car parked right in front of his father's car. Uther was seated in the driver's seat of his blue car looking out the window with a facial expression that could break stone. In front of the white car stood a lady with dark hair; she was wearing a business suit._

_Behind her there were two men also wearing business suits, but these men looked like they wanted to punch something. "Bradley, I'm Trina." The lady began as she walked over to him._

_Trina knelt down until she was at eye level with Bradley. She was calm and collected but the look in her eyes was one of pity. "I am sorry kiddo but you are going to have to come with us." she said._

_"Why?" Bradley questioned, not really understanding what was going watched Trina sigh and then glance over at Uther who still wasn't even looking at them._

_"Your father. He signed away his parental rights this morning. Do you know what that means?" Trina asked._

_Bradley shook his head no, not understanding what she was talking about at all._

_"Kid, your father doesn't want you anymore! He signed his rights away, meaning he ain't your father anymore! And, I gotta say good riddance! You were nothing but a black mark on this family!" Bradley's Grandfather said with a smirk._

_Bradley glanced at the older man, tears still running down his eyes. Looking back to Trina, he saw the lady lower her eyes and it was then that he knew his Grandfather was telling the truth. "Dad doesn't want me?" he fearfully whispered._

_"I'm sure he does kiddo, he is just confused right now. Give him time, he'll come around. He has thirty days to repeal his decision." Trina explained, standing upright again and placing a hand on Bradley's shoulder._

_"Come on...it's time to go." Trina said._

_Bradley just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. He looked towards his father who wasn't even looking back at him. Finally Bradley just took off. He didn't want to go with Trina and it was obvious his father wasn't going to be any help. Bradley ran and ran but the two gentleman in business suits ran after him and quickly caught him, man handling his screaming form in to the backseat of the car._

_Trina sighed, shook her head and got in to the driver's seat. Moments later the car was started up as Trina pulled away from the cemetery; Bradley still screaming for his father from the backseat._

[End Dream]

Back in his room in the cabin Arthur was still asleep but drenched in sweat, his head moving back and forth as if he were trying to fight something off. "No...no!" he murmured, "No...lemme go!" Tears were actually pouring out from under his closed eyes but he didn't know that because he was still asleep.

"Please...just lemme go..." he murmured again, "AAAAARRRRRRAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!" He released a loud yell but even that wasn't enough to wake him up from the grips of his nightmare.

After she is gone, he stands. His legs shaking as he walks, Marty goes to the charger and plugs the phone in. Hearing a scream, he hurries upstairs as fast as he could.

Marty peeks into the bedroom and sees Bradley thrashing about. Sweat glints on the blond-haired man's face. Grabbing some washcloths from the bathroom, he wets them with warm water and goes into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed besides Arthur, he bathes his face with one of the clothes. With the one hand occupied with that chore, Marty uses the other to still Bradley. "Shh…shh…it's all right. Calm down. It's just a dream," he whispered in a tender voice. "Come on. It's all right."

The warm water wasn't enough to wake him but when it started to cool on his face his eyes flashed open. Arthur was breathing hard as his eyes looked around the room trying to find the men who had grabbed him. When all he saw was Marty, he forced himself to hold his breath for a moment in an attempt to calm his breathing.

"Marty?" he whispered. The tone in his voice wasn't a Princely tone nor was it even a police officer type of tone, no it was the tone of a frightened child looking for guidance. Still trying to calm his breathing, Arthur forced himself to sit up in his bed.

He raised a hand to wipe off the water mixed with tears that had been getting in to his eyes.  
"I...did it again didn't I; yelled out in my sleep?" he asked. He hadn't done that for the longest time; well...since he was nineteen but since Marty was seated on the edge of his bed Arthur knew he must have done something because the younger man had been downstairs.

Marty continued to whisper tender words of assurance to the flailing man. "It is all right. Everything is fine. You are safe and in your bed. Nothing can get you. I won't let it," Marty said. His voice was calm, gentle, and quiet. It held a different inflection then it had in this modern world. There was no sarcasm and the words were not scathing.

When Bradley looked at him, he smiled. "Yeah, it's me," he said, looking down at himself for a second. "You're in the cabin at the Pike. We both are." As Bradley sat up, Marty moved his hands away. Not wanting to hold e wet cloth, he hung it on the metal bedpost. "It's alright. You're alright."

Marty cocked an eyebrow. "You've done that before? I never heard you do that. But, yeah. You were,' he said."So, I did what my mum used to do when I...when I had nightmares."

"I've had...nightmares off and on since I was seven. In Camelot one learns to suppress them; Lord knows I tried. To be honest I hadn't had a nightmare...least not like that since I was nineteen. Coming here dredges up a lot of bad memories. I guess one just got carried away.

"Did you know that all of my relatives on my mother's side hate me and my father? My grandfather; he was the worst. He always blamed my mother's death on me and you something? He was right. In a way it is my fault. If I hadn't been born then mother would still be alive; she'd be with father and they'd be happy. But all that changed. I know what you are going to say about the magic and everything and how for every life given one has to be taken. It should have been me...not her. Things would just have been so much better for everyone if I had never been born." Bradley murmurs.

As Bradley spoke, Marty listened. He was quiet – his lips were turned downwards. "I used to have nightmares. Up until I came to this world I had them. They were always the same. Someone would find out about my gifts and I'd be stoned or burnt at the stake. Even as a seven or eight year old, I had them. People in Ealdor didn't like me. They thought I was a monster or a spawn of the devil," Marty admitted. He fiddled with the washcloth. His jaw clenched as he felt anger towards those villagers. With a scream, he hurtled the wet washcloth at the wall.

When asked the question, he shrugged. "I don't know your family," Marty mumbled in a quiet and moody voice. When Bradley said it was his fault, he looked up. The young warlock shook his head.

"It's not your fault that your mum's dead. It's Nimueh's. To an extent, it's your father's. He was the one who made the deal with her," Marty said. His voice was firm. He shook her head. "It doesn't work that way. The older gives up the life for the younger I think. Sometimes I think it should've been me who died instead of my father. But, that doesn't matter. What matters is getting back to Camelot and becoming the King you are destined to become. Arthur, you have so much…ahead of you. Things will be better with you as King. Camelot will be in its golden age with you. You will unite the lands and create Albion. How could you do that if you weren't born?"

He looked at Brad's arm in the cast. "Let me heal it. I'm not great with healing spells, but maybe I can fix it. You probably will need both arms tomorrow when we find the machine," Marty said.

He glances down at his injured arm for a moment before he looks up back at Marty.

"Go ahead. I can't feel my arm or fingers anymore anyway." he replied softly.

Marty frowned. "Why didn't you say something," he asked "You could lose an arm that way!" He sighed and laid one hand on the cast. With the other hand, he held Bradley's hand. "Stay still."

Marty cleared his throat. Even before he began to chant, his eyes glowed yellow. "Buozen der giberit anka. Eidfestinænto zie der gotabetti. Buozen!" he chanted. As he worked, he could feel the bones knit together and heal.

"Ababrehhan!" he commanded the cast. As it broke in two, Marty took the pieces and laid it by the bed. He looked at Arthur as his eyes faded to blue. "How does it feel?"

Marty fiddled with the blanket. "Why do you trust me? I lied for years. Why do you trust my magic? Aren't you afraid of it? Don't you hate it," he asked. "I never thought you'd be so accepting…"

When he spoke, his voice was filled with sorrow. There was a smallness to his words and his stance. His shoulders were hunched forward. His eyes were downcast. "I am pathetic…"

When Marty spoke of the Golden Age and Albion, Bradley didn't know what to say. It was as if he had already been judged for things he hadn't even done yet! "You keep saying that as if it's my destiny or something to become this great King. How are we even to know if it's going to turn out that way?" Bradley murmured.

"It is! It is your destiny. Thousands of years before you or I were born the prophets foresaw our future. It is my destiny to protect you, to keep you alive, so you can fulfill it," Marty explained. He sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. I know I believe in the prophecies and I believe in you. I've seen the man you've grown into. I also know what I've seen and read. Some of the things have already happened."

He fell silent again when Marty put his hands on the cast and chanted. After a few moments there was a tingling sensation and then the cast fell off. Bradley looked down at his arm which was covered in a light dusting of white powder from the plaster cast.

Slowly he flexed his fingers. It was as if his arm had been asleep and then all of a sudden the blood flow had been restored. That rushing, cold tingly sensation started at his shoulder until it worked its way down to his fingers. Gently he placed his other hand on his shoulder, pressing down a little as he flexed it. It didn't hurt and he could actually move it! After a moment he nodded his head. "It feels okay. Thanks." he said.

He then listened as Marty spoke, seemingly in disbelief that he was so trusting of the younger man's magic. "You aren't pathetic. What you did a minute ago and a little earlier proves that you aren't. You want to know why I trust you and your magic? Yes, you hid the truth from me but it was a good thing that you did. With your magic you could have done anything. You could have destroyed Camelot, you could have changed it to suit your own needs but you didn't. Instead you chose to use your magic to protect everyone. Even Ealdor. You were the one that caused the wind storm, not your friend. He only said he was the sorcerer to protect you, just as you protected your village and your mother. So you see Merlin, I can't hate you nor have I any reason to be fearful of your magic. You have shown yourself to be loyal, faithful and true. I couldn't ask for a better friend." Bradley said.

Marty shifted in his heat. "Sometimes, I get tired of destiny and all of the work it entails and veer away from the path. Sometimes, I just feel like giving up and saying, 'no'. I even thought of running once, with Freya. We'd start a new life in a little cottage surrounded by mountains and by a lake. But, it didn't happen," he whispered.

"I think even now the fates are trying to push us towards our futures. We were haphazardly thrown into the future, but we're still coming together. You work with Lancelot and Gwaine. My uncle is Gaius. He's even a doctor in this world. Uther is your father in this world. And then, we come here…and this turns out to be the place where my father put his machine. There are too many coincidences happening all at once," the young man pointed out.

Marty couldn't help but smile a little bit. "Good," he said. "I can't believe it worked. I'd be care with it for a little bit. I don't know how well the spell worked. I'm better at defensive incantations as well as creative spells where I bring inanimate objects alive and create berries from thin air. Maybe Dragonlord spells are different. Balinor, he healed you with the same type of magic. He was a Dragonlord after all."

He shook his head. "Not pathetic?" Marty repeated. "Look at me! I'm an addict and a robber. I almost jumped off a bridge. Have you forgotten?" Marty could feel panic growing within him with each passing second. "And then…and then in the old world I had to act the clumsy fool and the bumbling idiot. Year after year, I had to lie and kill. I hid my magic! I let my friend lie. I should've taken control. I should've taken responsibility."

"I'm vulnerable and a pathetic mess," he whispered."And I did try to change it for my own needs. I've been trying for years to get magic unbanned."

Marty's brow was furrowed. "I hate myself. I hate my magic sometimes," he whispered. "And I hate what I've done, even if it was to protect you. How pathetic is that? Morgana was right."

Marty's stomach cramped and he leaned forward. Wrapping his arms around his midsection, he rocked as tears fell down his face. It was supposed to be a release, but it was only making him feel worse. Swaying and gasping through sobs, dark thoughts crowded his mind as a chant. He wished they would leave him and that he could forget, but he couldn't. _Worthless...idiot...weak...vulnerable...a fool...emotional mess... _were the words and they repeated themselves over and over.

"I can't do this," he whispered in a hopeless voice. "I can't."

He looked up at Bradley. His lips were quivering. "I don't know what to do," he whimpered. "I'm so tired. I don't know what to do. I can't do this any more. I don't want to die, but...but I don't want to live. Pathetic."

It was official, they both were emotional wrecks; Marty more so than Bradley at the moment, but Marty had gone through so much more that it was understandable.

Not caring if it made him look stupid, Bradley moved until he too was seated on the edge of his bed before he wrapped an arm around Marty's shoulders.

"Escaping one's destiny is never easy. Sometimes it's the hardest thing in the world. You of all people should know that, Marty. In some ways I can't imagine what you are going through right now and in some ways I can.

"I understand that you are hurting; I think we both are in more ways than one but Marty I want you to understand something. Every time I called you an idiot and or berated you for some clumsy deed or stunt you pulled, I was silently praising you. Without you there, life in Camelot would have been dull and lifeless. Marty the people of Camelot are going to need you, and so will I. I cannot become what everyone thinks I will become without you." Bradley said.

He paused for a moment before looking in to Marty's eyes, seeing the hurt and the anguish that was in them. "But...you are tired as you say. If you don't want to return or you can't do this any more then I can't and wouldn't force you to. You are your own person Marty. The choice is yours and yours alone. I can't make it for you." he muttered.

As Bradley wrapped an arm around the young man's thin shoulders, he released his hands from around his stomach. Both hands creeped up until they were wrapped around Bradley's wrist. He squeezed as if holding on for dear life. He was shivering and quivering – his muscles were so taught he couldn't relax them.

"Destiny chases me, Arthur," he whispered. "I can't escape it. No matter what I do or don't do, it creeps up on me. It almost forces me to do things. Destiny pushed me to Camelot."

His body was wearing out. Mentally and physically, he was exhausted. He hadn't really slept in four days. Marty didn't know how long he would be able to keep going this way, but his body wasn't ready to succumb to the obliviousness of sleep. "How could imagine," he asked. "How?"

Marty leaned his head against Bradley's shoulder. He couldn't keep it up. Even though he didn't have the largest head, it still felt heavy. "I'm beyond hurting. I feel drained. I feel numb. My grief it's overwhelming and all encompassing. My body feels constricted. It doesn't feel like it'll ever get better," Marty whispered. "I don't feel like myself. I don't remember the last time I did. But, I know it got worse after I had the brain surgery. Everything has been a mess."

"I know," Marty whispered quietly. He nodded his head against Bradley's shoulder. "I know, but it stung. It was hard to play that part."

A thin smile crossed his face. "Yes, I suppose Camelot would have been dull without me. You would've had George and his brass as company," quipped Marty.

He shifted away from Bradley as Bradley also moved. When the man tried to look Marty in the eyes, Marty looked away. He looked down at his lap. "I don't want to do this anymore. I can't. I am. I am tired," Marty whispered. "But, I am going. I have to go. I am not my own person, Bradley. I am a man driven by destiny. I am a man pushed into doing whatever is needed to bring about Albion and to keep you alive to become it's King. I have no choice."

Marty closed his eyes. "Besides, if I stayed here, I'd be alone. I really would kill myself then. I don't want to be alone," he whispered.

The young man finally let go of Brad's arm – at least he let go with one hand. "Tonight, I tried my mother. I tried to call her. She hates me, Bradley. She detests me. She doesn't want me around. She doesn't want me. First thing asked was what I wanted. She threatened to take my bike. And you know…she told me to stop being dramatic when I told her what's been happening after my surgery! And then she hated I was having a pity party. And asked me if it itched not having a hit of drugs. Then, I made the mistake of telling her the truth and she accused me of being high," Marty sobbed. Large tears fell.

When Marty started to cry Bradley did the one thing he thought he would never do. He scooted closer to Marty and pulled the younger man in to his chest so he could easily wrap his other arm around Marty.

Bradley was trying to be comforting because he could see how upset Marty was. He remembered a few times when Uther had comforted him the exact same way. Feeling his father's arms around him had made Bradley feel safe and secure and he was hoping that in some tiny measure Marty would feel the same way.

"Marty that woman isn't your mother. I know Hunith; I know that she loves and cares for you greatly. That woman that you talked to on the phone, she may sound like your mother but she isn't your mother; she isn't Hunith." Bradley said.

He continued to hold on to the younger man, just letting him cry. "You don't have to be alone anymore Marty." he murmured.

Marty's hand crept from Bradley's arm to his shirt. He clung on as if he were a man in the midst of a choppy, tumulus ocean, holding a life raft with every ounce of energy he could muster. Like a floodgate being opened, the tears flowed freely. The young man could not stop them. He didn't want to, even if Bradley would tease him for being [i]girly[\i] and crying. As he rested his head against Bradley's shoulder (for there was no other place to rest it), he breaths came out ragged and shaky. He could scarcely take in a deep breath though – the tears prevented him from doing it.

Even with the hysterics, he could tell something was different. His body felt different. While mentally shaky, still depressed, and exhausted, Marty felt an internal strength that hadn't been there a few hours earlier. His skin wasn't clammy or sweaty. In fact, the young man would say he felt cool (not cold). There were no goose bumps. His legs only felt slightly twitchy, but he had no urge to move them. He'd made it through the hell of detox. Now he had to do with the other side of recovery.

Marty moved away from Bradley. He scrubbed the tears away. "She is my mother. When we go back, she will be my mother there too. She is Hunith," he said. "Do you know what she did to me in this world? This time? She kicked me out of the house over a year ago. It was about six months after my father died. She turned me away. I don't blame her – I stole from her twice… 50 pounds each time. She changed the locks even so I couldn't come back. My uncle did the same thing. He even changed his tele number. He never let me stay with him, even though he knew what was going on. He didn't even go to his brother's funeral."

Marty felt more tears come. So Bradley didn't see them, he leaned his head against Brad's shoulder. "Maybe I'm supposed to be. Everyone I've cared about or got close to has been killed. Freya, Will, my dad…" Marty mumbled. "Maybe as soon as your destiny is fulfilled, I'll just drop dead because destiny has no use for me anyway."

Bradley stayed close to Marty, letting him cling or lean against him as needed. When Marty mentioned what Hunith had done to him though, that got the Prince's blood boiling. Even though they were no longer in Camelot (or Ealdor for that matter), Hunith had no right to do what she did!

"She did what now?!" Bradley asked, even though he had heard what Marty had said perfectly.

"Tragedy happens. A real family pulls together, sounds like yours just fell apart." he murmured.

After Marty said what he did about possibly dropping dead after their destiny was fulfilled, Arthur shook his head. That statement scared him and sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't even imagine Marty dying, even though it had almost happened enough for him to get used to it.

"Don't say that Marty. Don't even think it. My destiny doesn't mean a thing to me if you aren't there. I am not saying that because I totally rely on your magical talents or anything, I am saying it because you are my best friend. You are the only one who really gets me; who truly understands." Bradley said.

Marty fidgeted a little with the bedspread as he rocked. It wasn't the lack of drugs, he just felt a little anxious and ashamed of the situation. Marty should've been able to stop himself from getting kicked out. He should've gotten clean the first time – maybe things would've been different. But, no, he didn't do either of those things. Instead, things just spiraled out of control.

"She kicked me out of the house," he repeated. "She changed the locks. I'm surprised she didn't change her phone, too. I don't know why she didn't. I don't blame her. I don't blame anyone, but myself. I never blame anyone." Marty's voice was barely above a squeaking whisper.

He shook his head. "Our family was never really together. My dad kept us going. He kept me from doing stupid things. He kept my mum happy. He kept my uncle in contact with us – at least occasionally. Gael was always a busy man and didn't really have much time for anything," Marty explained. "Then, when my dad was killed..." The young man shrugged as he let his words trail off.

"I've been homeless for two years, well almost two years. Sometimes I wanted arrested because then I'd at least have a bed for a night," Marty muttered. "It also kept me safe, I think…actually I know. Behind bars I couldn't be chased."

Marty raised his eyebrows. "Well, why not? It could be true," he muttered in a mood voice. "Think of how many times you could've died or I could've died and we didn't. Destiny wants us both here and alive for a certain reason. Your density seems to last more from mine. You can't turn your back on what is supposed to happen. It will happen. Events will unfold so that they do happen whether you like it or not. Our lives do have choices, but somehow the path to our future will end up with you uniting Albion and myself keeping you alive to do that."

He shrugged again and looked down. "I don't know how good of a friend I am. I'm a pathetic one. A weak one. A vulnerable. Are you sure you want me in that role," he asked. "Tonight, when Morgana showed up, she was right when she called me pathetic and implied I was wasting my skills. She's right. As much as I hate to admit it she is right and I hate myself for being that. I should be stronger. I should be more willful. I should take charge of my powers more then I have. I'm none of that. How do I get rid of this self-loathing and self-hatred and self-deprecation? Images of what I've done just keep flashing in my mind and I keep reliving everything – over and over and over again. It's like I have post traumatic stress….like the soldiers get.

"You are a good friend Marty. You are not pathetic and weak. Look at everything you have accomplished. You have made it through so many trials and tribulations that would have killed most men. You've made it through and hopefully you are stronger for it.

"I can't say that the pain you are feeling will ever go away because it won't but in time it will lessen and become manageable. One thing that police officers have to do, especially after they are forced to shoot someone is to talk to a councilor. Believe me I didn't want to at first; I didn't see how it would help or change anything but it did. I am not saying what worked for me will work for you but if you are willing to give it a chance, it just might." Bradley said.

He paused as his tired mind went over something that Marty had said earlier. "Wait a second...Morgana was here again?! What did she want?! Berate you and tear you down again?!" Bradley asked.

"Good friends don't steal and they don't lie…even if there was a good reason for it. A good friend doesn't just jump off a bridge. That's just selfish of me. I wasn't thinking of anyone or anything. I just wanted to escape," Marty retorted. He wore a very stubborn expression as he spoke. The man shook his head. "I could've done more! I should've. The only reason I'm still here is destiny. Destiny is not done with me. Your destiny hasn't come. My destiny isn't fulfilled."

Marty shook his head. "I don't think I am. I don't feel like I am. If I was, why would I turn to drugs," he asked. Martin's tone was held apathy. His eyes held no light or sparkle. They looked as dead as he felt inside.

When Bradley said that pain he felt might never go away, he sighed. He didn't want to live with these emotions the rest of his life. He didn't think he could. For a brief second, he wished the jump had worked and he was at the bottom of the water. It made him sick to his stomach and brought even more self-loathing. However, Marty didn't let his emotions show on his face, instead the man laughed. The warlock actually did find it funny. What would he say to a therapist?

It was then, Marty realized that had been the first time he'd laughed in a long time. It had been the first time he'd felt mirth for anything. The warlock couldn't help wonder if Bradley noticed. To Marty, it was a momentous occasion. This was a small victory for him.

"Are you serious, Bradley? I'd be locked up or thrown in prison if I told someone what was troubling me," Marty pointed out. "If you didn't know me and I said, 'I poisoned my friend and killed my best friends fiancé and her father', how would you react?"

When Bradley asked about Morgana, he quieted his laughter. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, she was. I'm still not entirely sure. She told me…she told me she loved me back in Camelot. She also told me my mother called her to tell her to stay away because I was a danger to Ana and that my mother was writing up some papers to get my bike. And, yes, she berated me and tore me down. Called me pathetic … among other things"

He sighed. "Something was wrong. When I saw her reflection in the mirror, there were two Ana's . It was one that seemed to be protesting against the one standing in the room. She seemed the opposite to her reflection – so cold and calculating. I think magic is at work on her," Marty said, making the face that clearly stated he felt like he was right, but didn't want to be.

Bradley was silent, thinking as he listened to Marty speak. When he mentioned the part about there being two Ana's, his mind for some reason immediately went to the red stone he remembered seeing around her neck.

"I think you are right about there being magic involved. When she was choking me I remember seeing her wearing a necklace I had never seen before. It had a red gem stone that...I really don't know how to describe it. I guess you could say it almost seemed to shimmer, as if it had a light all it's own. Now I've seen Morgana's jewelry before but that was something entirely new. It could be that that necklace is the source of a spell or incantation." Bradley began,

"If it is, all we probably would need do is destroy the necklace but doing so is easier said than done. I doubt she is just going to willingly hand the thing over."

"Magic is always involved," Marty remarks, "and it always seems to want to intercept my plans to slow you magic is evil." He rubbed his face and shook his head. Why did it always have to be like that? The young warlock didn't understand.

He sighed. "But, are you sure," Marty asked. "This is a different world and a different time. She could own something like that. But, if your instincts are telling you it is, they are probably right. For it, they usually are. Right now, I don't know. I wish I had my magic book, but it's in Camelot. I could look up the stone and find out what we're dealing with, if we are dealing with anything. It looked kind of like a raw ruby to me."

Marty nodded. "Probably, we will. However, right now I think we need to focus on getting to the machine. We can deal with the other magical things later," he said, yawning.

As sleep overtook her, he lay back on the bed. Drawing his knees up and hugging them, Martin slept for the first time in four days.


	46. Chapter 45: Refreshed

Marty woke in the morning. Stretching, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Pushing himself off the bed, he went downstairs. Fishing through his bag, he chose his black jeans and a blue thin-knit sweater.

Stripping from his clothes, he stepped in the shower, washed off, and then got off. Dried and dress, he went downstairs. Putting water in the pot, he set it on the stove. Then, in the skillet, he plopped some eggs and bacon. In another skillet, he threw in some butter and potato rounds. As he stood there, cooking the food, he was reminded of his past as Arthur's servant. He was even wearing similar colored clothes and making the usual breakfast (although they never had potatoes when he was a manservant).

He stayed with Marty for the next four hours, just watching the man sleep. When he saw the first rays of sunlight start to peak through the window Bradley had gotten up, grabbed a fresh pair of clothes (dark black, short sleeved shirt, dark black jeans, black boots, black belt and his black shades) and proceeded to shower. He only stayed under the warm water for ten minutes before toweling off and getting dressed.

Sighing, he then entered the living room, grabbing the papers he had left there last night. Silently he entered the sun room; a simple room with cloud blue walls that allowed the suns rays to bounce off of them with enough intensity that one need not even turn on any lights to see perfectly.

Flopping down on to the dark blue couch that was facing the clear windows that looked out on to the outside, Bradley opened up the file and stared at the cavalcade of papers that he would need to go through. Bradley really didn't know what he was looking for. He knew the machine was at the Pike and he had a pretty good feeling he knew more or less where it would be. Perhaps there would be something in here that would mention booby traps or what one should expect with the machine.

Of course Balinor was smart, he wouldn't just have a paragraph stating 'this is what you will face on your journey to reach the machine.' One would need to look in between the lines and even then one what not find what they were looking for.

He perused the papers for what seemed like hours until he heard something rattling around in the kitchen. Silently standing up Bradley went to the doorway of the sun room. From there he could easily glimpse not only in to the living room but also in to the kitchen as well.

He saw Merlin...no...Marty...no...Bradley paused. Both of those were the guy's name and both he answered to...so which one did he want to be called?!

Seeing that Marty looked better than he had during the night, Bradley decided to leave him alone for now, figuring that the guy could use some alone time. He turned, re entering the sun room and using the door that was in the sun room to go outside.

He still had one of the papers in his hand, it was a crude drawing of what the machine looked like. Even though it half way resembled chicken scratch, Bradley still recognized it as the Sword in the Stone. Even he had heard that story and seen the Disney dramatization.

Once the eggs, bacon, and potatoes were done he put them all on plates and carried them to the dining table. Grabbing some silverware, cups, and plates, he took those over there too. With one last trip to the kitchen, he got the milk and filled the two glasses. Screwing the lid on, Marty left the table.

"Wonder where Brad boy is," muttered the young man. That nickname was the one he usually reserved for annoying Bradley. He wandered through the living room and stopped at the exit to the sunroom. "There you are."

He sighed and shifted. "Breakfast is ready. I cooked. It felt...it felt like the past. Is that a good thing or not," he asked, running a hand through his hair. "What are we going to call ourselves if we get backs. I guess I should go back to Merlin. Until then, I guess we stick to our names in this era," he said.

Tiredly, he sighed. "Sorry for falling asleep on your bed. I was just exhausted. That was the first sleep I've had in four days," he admitted. "I feel better. The detox is over. It doesn't mean I'm not depressed or that there's a craving for the drugs. I am depressed. It'll take time for my brain to heal. And I do want the drugs, but i am going to fight that. I'm not going to use. At least, I wot today. One thing I learned in rehab is not to promise never to do something. This will be a fight the rest of my life."

"Fair enough," Bradley replied about their names as he glanced at Marty.

"One of my instructors said that he and his brother went through the same thing. He said that he and his brother made an agreement. If there was ever a craving for drugs of any kind that the younger brother would seek out the older brother and they would just talk it out."

He paused for a minute before joining Marty at the door of the sun room.

"I keep asking myself this same inane question. Why are we doing this? Is it to go back? Is it to keep the device from Morgana? And if we do go back...what happens then? Things go back to normal? They can never go back to normal. Sometimes I wonder if we aren't better off here." Bradley said.

He squeezed past Marty, re entering the cabin. They needed to eat and pack for the trek ahead. There wasn't much time, especially if Morgana was involved.

"I mean you could go by Arthur in this time, if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you. But, I think I'd get some pretty off looks if I told people my name was Merlin. I get enough funny looks as it is. My reputation is infamous I guess," he said, stuffing his hands in his jean's pockets."

Marty nodded as he listened about the 'buddy system'. "I've heard of it. The docs in rehab suggested it to me. I never really found anyone who would be willing to do it. I guess back then, I didn't want to. Now, I think I'll need that. But, I don't even know if you can find heroin back in our time. I can't use if it's not there, right?"

Marty shrugged. "It's not an inane question. Those are good concerns. I think we're doing this because it's the right thing. It's what we're supposed to do. We need to go back. This isn't our time even if we're comfortable here," he said. "I don't think anything will go back to normal. We've experienced too much. But, it'll become our new normal – again."

Marty followed Bradley to the kitchen. He served himself some of the food and began to eat it. "Was I always a good cook?" he asked. "Some of the past is still fuzzy."

Spying the food, Bradley let Marty get what he wanted first; the guy had gone to the trouble of cooking it after all, before he took a little bit of the eggs, bacon and potatoes.

Slowly he put a bite of egg in to his mouth and almost immediately he was drawn back to Camelot...well...the forests surrounding the castle. He saw himself sitting on a fallen log, a small plate of rabbit stew in his gloved hands, and just off to the side, stirring a pot that was over a fire, he recognized Marty, only Marty was dressed differently, wearing dark pants, a dark blue shirt, red neckerchief and a brown jacket.

Shaking his head a little the vision faded. "Yes you were a good cook. Your rabbit stew was to die for. Sometimes I chided your cooking ability but I was always secretly impressed with it." Bradley replied.

He sighed and took a swig of milk from one of the two glasses before speaking up again.

"I was going through those notes of your father's. They mention some caves but he never named the cave system. His description though matches a relatively unknown system about seven miles to the north east. There are many entrances in to the caves but I think I know which one your father was talking about."

Marty looked at Brad's plate. "That's not a whole lot of food. We're going to be hiking and who knows what else. You'll need your strength. I don't really want to carry you half the way there," he joked.

He noticed that Bradley had a funny look in his eyes. "Did I put too much pepper on the eggs," Marty asked. He took a bite and shrugged. "It tastes fine to me. What's on your mind?"

"I don't really know where I learned it...the choosing I mean. I guess my mum. I watched her a lot. When I was little, I spent most of my time with her because people weren't fond of me," Marty explained. He shrugged again at the mention of chiding."I didn't mind that, to be honest, the chiding I mean. It was better then when the knights acted like it was heaven on earth and didn't leave anything for me to try. That kind of got annoying with all the 'Oo, it's so good...' or 'You should try this, Merlin'. That was annoying. I was pretty confident about what I made."

Marty shook his head. "He wouldn't have. This was top secret work. People would have paid millions to see the machine or take the first trip. People mightve even killed for the machine. He was just preparing to reveal his machine to the world when he was killed," Marty explained. "He just wanted to keep it safe for as long as possible."

Marty downed some milk and then he ate some potatoes. "So, which one is it? Or, am I going to have to follow you blindly?"

Marty stood then. He grabbed his meds and took them. Marty then poured out Bradely's pain pill and sat it in front of the blonde-haired man. "You need it," he asked.

He had been about to take another sip of milk when he stopped and gave Marty an amused look after the younger man said he didn't want to have to carry him. "What...this coming from the guy who used to call me fat?" he joked, playfully punching Marty's left shoulder.

He shook his head and chuckled for a moment. "I was just thinking back to the times we all went hunting out in the forest. That look of concentration you always had on your face whenever you were cooking; it's nice to see that some things never change."

Bradley finished what little was on his plate before he downed the milk that was in his glass. He had just put the glass back on the table when Marty had placed his prescription painkiller down in front of him; stating that he would need it. Brad eyed the pill uneasily, not really wanting to get back on that particular train again but his newly mended shoulder was aching a little and the pill would help with that.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll take that if you take yours." he said, folding his hands together and placing them on the table to the left side of the horse pill.

"And in answer to your other question, I can't be one hundred percent sure until I get to the cave, but I think it's the one that's farthest east. It's the only one that relatively matches your father's description."

Marty returned the gaze with wide, hopeful and almost innocent-looking eyes. The expression was intense – a usual expression for the old Merlin. He was giving all of his attention to Bradley, but it gave his eyes an appearance of them looking in the heart of the person's soul. Why was the gaze almost innocent? Marty usually could hide most of his anguish, but a little bit of his true feelings always slipped through. Behind the innocence, were scars of sadness, weariness, and even a little defeat.

"Did you really think I was being serious," Marty asked. "The only time I actually called you fat…it was only because I needed a drumstick or two for Freya. The druid….she was Fay in this world." His lips tried to twist into a scowl, but instead they turned upwards as he pushed him. He chuckled a little – it was weak, but genuine.

"Oh," Marty replied, nodded. "How, dull. Weren't there other things we did that was more interesting?" He shrugged about the concentration. "I just didn't want to burn myself. And I didn't think you'd want your soup scorched. I would bet that would've made you a really irritable Prince. You were already a clotpole most of the time. I didn't want an irritable one on my hands." Marty grinned to show Bradley he was joking.

Marty frowned. "I already took my meds," he said. "See?" The young man offered Bradley the bottle of anti-depressant as well as the bottle of methadone. "You'll note each says 14 pills. You will find two missing – one from last night and today. Now, take it. You'll need it."

Marty nodded. "It has a lot of tunnels, right," he asked. "That sounds like my dad. He liked…tunnels."

After studying the pill bottles and indeed finding that two pills were missing, Bradley took his pill off of the table and went to the fridge, withdrawing a cold bottled water. Taking the cap off, he popped the pill in to his mouth before taking a gulp of the cool refreshing liquid.

"Did we do anything more interesting?" Bradley asked once he had swallowed the pill and the water, "well...we fought bandits, Griffons...uh...you were poisoned...you went with me to help me rescue Guinevere, we had to go through a cave infested with wildren...so yeah I'd say so."

He chuckled a little before getting serious.  
"Yes there are a lot of tunnels. When I was younger I tried to count them all. I lost count after 250, though I'm sure some of them have collapsed by now. The tunnel system was never all that stable." he said.

"I'm not daft nor I do I really, deeply want to get to that point again. Do you think I'd skip," he asked, taking the bottle back. "What worries me is I only have 12 pills left and it's a twice a day dosage. When we go back home, I'm not going to have the medicine. When I run out what then? What do I do? What I slip back into the darkness and can't take it?"

He shook his head. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. Maybe he was being foolish or childish. Maybe the worries weren't even important.

When Bradley mentioned what they had done, he raised his eyebrows. "I know we had done more interesting things. Since we had, why weren't you think of something else? Cooking…that's such a menial task. Everyone does it. I didn't do anything special. It's not like I made a soufflé in the woods," Marty pointed out.

He shivered as he thought about the poisoning. "Don't remind me. It wasn't the only time I nearly died for you. When the questing beast bit you, I put my life on the line. I bartered your life. When a life lives, a life has to be taken in return. It won't be the last time either."

Marty nodded. "All right," he said. "So, what about food…what do we take? We can't really bring any perishables. Do you know how to hunt? I have some fishing skills."

He knew Marty had a point. When they did get back and he ran out of medicine, what then? It was a possibility that Gaius could probably 'cook' something up but the question was would it work and would Marty be willing to take it?

Standing up Bradley chuckled a little. "Yes Marty I know how to hunt." The memory of him aiming for a deer and then Merlin colliding with him, blocking his shot and making the deer run off. He had told Merlin that hunting required speed, stealth and an agile mind and then Merlin had to have the 'we will just have to get by on two out of three' comeback.

"Right, I don't know how long we'll be gone. Um...there should be some MRE's* in the cupboard, along with some packs of beef jerky and some Ramen Noodle packs. There should also be some bags of trail mix or something like that as well." Bradley said.

Marty picked up his dishes. He felt his hands shake as he fought the weakness in his hand. He squeezed the plates hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Marty wasn't going to drop the dishes. The young man sat them in the sink and went back to the table. "Are you done," he asked.

He grabbed the milk and juice and carried it to the fridge. Putting it in the appliance, he leaned his head against the freezer door. "Gaius does have treatment for my sort of situation. He's had others with melancholia…depression. I'll have bloodletting and purging. It's not pleasant nor does it work," Marty replied.

"Well, good. I didn't know if 21st century Arthur knew how to hunt," he explained. "So, it's a valid question. I don't have near the magical abilities here as in our _proper_ time."

Marty looked through the shelves and found the food Bradley mentioned. Going into the hallway, he found an empty backpack as well as some blankets and shoved the food in there. Laying them on topic, he went to the bathroom and grabbed a bar of soap, a large bottle of hand sanitizer, wash clothes, a first aid kit, and towels. Zipping it up, he back downstairs and sat the pack on the floor. Looking through his backpack, he threw out everything but a drawing pad, his graphite pencils, an eraser, the underwear and socks as well as a few shirts. "What clothes are you taking," he asked.

Going over to his own pack, Bradley opened it up and began to remove the unnecessary clothing from the bag. Out went shirts, socks, jeans, boxers and other junk and in went one short sleeved black shirt, a pair of black and white sweat pants, a dark red jacket and a pocket knife.

"We are also going to need some flashlights and extra batteries. I think my dad kept some in the kitchen." Bradley said.

He was also thinking about the cave and what they could possibly expect there.

"Marty...do you know how to use a gun? I don't know what we are going to face so I think it'd be a good idea if we were both armed...just in case."

All of a sudden Bradley heard a buzzing sound coming from his phone. Going over to it, he took it off of the charger and pressed a button. It was a text from Lance; a warning really.

"Not to rush you or anything," Bradley began while replying to Lance's text, "but we really need to get out of here...sooner rather than later."

Finishing up the text, Brad sent it before going in to the other room and collecting all of the papers and other evidence that would show where they went. He took those papers and stuffed them in to his pack.

"For a Prince, you sure are minimalistic," Marty remarked. As Bradley packed, the young man had crossed his arms over his chest and watched the blonde-haired man sift through the clothes. It had been amusing.

Marty nodded. "Yeah, we might need though," he said. Looking through the drawers he found flashlights and matches. "My bag's pretty heavy. Can't hey go in yours? I have a 5 pound limit."

The young man stopped and started laughing at the question. "You've got to be kidding me. Me, know how to use a gun? I'm the guy who disrupts every hunting trip you go on," he said. "So, no I don't know how to use a gun. I'd do better throwing rocks. I might be able to defend myself with a spell, but I don't know how well my magic will work."

"I think I've got everything. I'm ready. What was the text about," he said, heading out the door. Going in the shed, he rolled his bike out and hopped on. Looking back at Bradley, he frowned. "Why did you come after me? I mean in this world we haven't exactly had the best relationship. Why didn't you just let me jump? Why didn't you ignore my note?"

He scoffed when Marty made the remark that for a Prince he was minimalistic. It must have slipped his mind that the whole 'Prince' deal was still new to him. He may have been a Prince back in Camelot but here he was just a regular Joe. Well...a regular Joe who just happened to be a police officer.

Wordlessly he walked back over to Marty, taking the matches and flashlights to stuff in to his bag while he listened to Marty speak.

"You've got to be kidding me. Me, know how to use a gun? I'm the guy who disrupts every hunting trip you go on, So, no I don't know how to use a gun. I'd do better throwing rocks. I might be able to defend myself with a spell, but I don't know how well my magic will work."

"I just thought that...here in this time you might know how to use one. Besides, we aren't in Camelot anymore." Bradley pointed out.

"I think I've got everything. I'm ready. What was the text about,"

Bradley zipped up his pack and slung it over his shoulders. He was ready too. Walking outside, making sure to stay side-by-side with Marty, he explained to the other man what the text had been about.

"It was from Lance. He seems to think that someone is after us. He said he received a picture of us that was taken this morning. Apparently there was some sort of death threat with the picture. He said that he and Gavin were on their way up to check things out."

Going to the shed, Bradley watched as Marty entered in, rolled out his bike and then hopped on to it. Before Bradley could climb on behind him, Marty spoke up. "Why did you come after me? I mean in this world we haven't exactly had the best relationship. Why didn't you just let me jump? Why didn't you ignore my note?"

Bradley sighed. Why indeed! He had wondered that same question, but still the answer was a simple one.

"It's hard to explain. I feel...I don't know..." he began, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to think of the right words to say, "...a sort of attachment to you that wasn't there in the beginning. I feel worried and apprehensive if I don't know where you are or if you are hurt or something and I feel a sense of pride and camaraderie whenever I'm around you."

The young man raised his eyebrows as Brad made a funny noise. "What? Back home in Camelot you had a lot of things, but they never got put away...by you. You always brought a lot of things on camping trips, too," Marty said. "It's no wonder I was so noisy with bows and arrows and pots and pans and bags of supplies."

He handed the things to Bradley and watched as he stuffed the things in the bag. "No, sorry, I don't. The onetime I tried I nearly shot my foot off. I'm dreadful with a weapon," Marty said with a shake of his head. "No, we aren't there...at least we're not in the old Camelot. London's in the area near Camelot though. I wonder what it'll be like going back there?"

Marty sighed as he brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "When isn't someone after us or threatening us? From what I remember that was a common thing," Marty remarked. He laughed a little when Brad said that the two men were coming. "It sounds Ike destiny is bringing us all together to defeat the bad guys, like we used to do."

Marty stared ahead as he listened to Bradley talk. He raised an eyebrows hitch made his nose wrinkle a bit. "No, it definitely wasn't. I know for me the feelings were mutual. I didn't like or trust you," he admitted. "You know, you don't have to worry about me...well, I guess you do. I did attempt something foolish. I just, I wanted relief. I wanted to rest. I wanted to forget what I did. There was so much self- loathing and self-hatred. I had to escape. It was cowardly. I know that.

"Hey, everyone goes through a dark period in their lives. Some go through it more than once. You have nothing to feel bad about, okay?" Bradley said, placing a hand on Marty's shoulder for the briefest of moments.

From what he remembered Merlin was never one for too much contact, so it was a safe bet Marty was the same way, which was why after only seven seconds Bradley withdrew his hand from the younger man's shoulder.

"We better get moving. Do you need me to give you directions?" Bradley asked as he moved to climb on to the bike behind Marty.

Marty stared at Bradley with his lips pressed into a thin line as his chest puffed out and sank back down with deep, deliberate breaths. "Don't make excuses for me, Brad. Don't. I have to take control and own what I did," he said. "I've done some shitty things in this world as well as in my past. I was arrested ten times before you even got a hold of me and that was the six months after my dad died."

He shook his head. "I've been in that dark period off and on for two years. Two! I got to the point where I didn't care if I lie, if I died, if I messed up. I didn't care about anything or anyone, least of all myself," Marty admitted. "And then I remembered what I did and I hated it. I hated me. Maybe instead of jumping I should've turned myself in. Maybe it would be better. I don't know, but I do know people who enter the darkness don't attempt to jump off a bridge. It's not okay and I have everything to feel bad about. There are people, my father, Will, Freya, I could've saved and I didn't. Those villagers were right, I am a monster and I hate myself."

Normally, he would push Bradley away. But, he was trying not to cry. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

When Bradely asked if he wanted directions, he shrugged. "Sure," !arty said. "You can give the to me while we ride."

"I know you feel bad about what happened, but you shouldn't hate yourself. Hatred like that only suffices to plant seeds of doubt in your mind and you wind up doing something that will not only affect yourself but everyone around you, and it's normally a negative effect." Bradley said.

He had seen this happen so many times. Self hatred led to depression which led to suicide, and Marty had actually attempted that; almost succeeded too. Bradley didn't even want to consider how their lives may have changed if Marty had been successful in his attempt.

"Just head towards the mountains. I'll let you know when it's time to leave the main road." He said. Grasping on to the handle that was underneath his seat, Bradley waited for Marty to get the bike moving. As he was waiting, Bradley did have a feeling that they hadn't seen the last of Ana and that it was quite possible they were going to run in to her at the machine. Perhaps fate did have a hand in whatever was going to happen.

"You might know I feel bad, but you don't know how I feel! You don't know that the scene plays over and over in my head so it's like I relive it. I feel the coldness and the remorse and the numbness," Marty said. "I think, subconsciously I knew what I had done all along and was blocking with the drugs. Ad you know what, I want a hit so bad right now I could scream."

He shook his head. "I've already messed up in so many ways. I've already hurt so many people. What's new? What else could I actually do," Marty retorted. How else could I affect the lot around me?"

Marty started his bike. "Hold on," he said, not giving any clue to Bradley whether or not he had heard him (although he had). Putting his foot on the gas, he sped off to the mountains. The area actually looked familiar.

Spying an area that had a slightly bigger opening, Marty entered the forest. Bumping along, he kept his eyes out. The young man hoped he'd taken the right spot. It felt right, but he didn't see any caves for the longest time.

Finally, the light on the front of his bike shined on an opening. "We're here," he said. Turning off the engine, Marty pocketed the keys and got off.


	47. Chapter 46: Remembering

For the first time in his life Lance was unsure of what to do. This situation was just turning from bad to worse. His partner was up at Scafell Pike and from what he was hearing, having one hell of a bad time up there, and just an hour ago a little songbird had told him a tidbit of information that had had him promptly passing out on the floor.

It was just hearsay, that's all it was so far but if what he had learned was true then they were in for some major trouble. So there Lance was at 9 o'clock in the morning standing on the porch of Gavin's abode. He needed to speak to the man, to explain a few things about Morgan.

Sighing he raised a finger and rung the doorbell before lightly tapping on the door. He was unsure if Gavin was a morning person or not but he supposed he would probably find out in a moment.

Morgan's body stretched as sleep slowly faded from her tired eyes. Her hair was everywhere, and her body was tired, and thoroughly ravished from the night before. She snuggled into her 'man' pillow, kissing his naked chest as he slumbered. She looked up at him, mouth half open, eyes closed in heavenly bliss. She braced herself over his body; he was always an adorable sleeper. She runs her fingers over his shoulders, chest, and finally his chin. Fiancé...what a foreign but oh so delicious word to describe him now. She will be Mrs. Gavin Sparrows in a mere few days...the thought excites her suddenly. She starts to lean over her Songbird, very keen to wake him up and go again when the doorbell interrupts her ideas. She raises and eyebrows and looks back down at her prize, she supposes they'll have to wait. She cannot resist though...she moves down quickly and kisses him longingly on the mouth, nipping at his bottom lip.

"I'll get it."

Her voice is as soft as velvet when she whispers into his lips. She kisses him one last time on the neck before rolling out of bed and quickly throwing on her knickers. She opens one of his drawers and grabs one of his long t-shirts, it has a graphic design on the front against a blood red background. She smiles in approval as she throws it over her head, the bottom settling just below her bottom, giving him a delicious view of her legs...and whoever is at the door.

She scratches her scalp making her hair fall in an alluring manner as she walks barefooted to the door, opening it without checking the peep hole. Her smile is dark when she sees whose on the other side.

"Mr. Seger how delightful it is for you to drop by."

She makes sure to bring her left hand up and give him a blinding view of the two caret rock sitting on her left ring finger.

"Please come in."

When the front door opened Lance was fully expecting to see Gavin but when he saw Morgan, wearing one of Gavin's shirts and wearing...no! No way! His eyes immediately went to the ring on her left hand. He paused, his body seemingly forgetting to breathe. This was bad. No scratch that! It wasn't bad it was a disaster in the making!

The moment passed and the burning in his lungs told Lance that he had to keep breathing. Mouth suddenly dry it was almost all Lance could do to walk in to the house. What he had to say was for Gavin's ears only but after spying that ring he seriously doubted that Gavin would even care.

"Is Gavin here?" he croaked out.

His reaction delighted her beyond belief, she could tell this would be quite interesting. Gavin had come a long way since last night...finally seeing things her way on some level. Yes, her songbird held secrets but as his fiancé he will be bound to sing for her for the rest of their lives...and Morgan can ensure they are long.

Lance is so cowardly looking as he enters the door, his face is a mask of horror. She looks down at the ring on her finger, scrutinizing its power, and then smiling. Her icy blue eyes glance back up at Lance, she knows Gavin will be up soon...he was never one to sleep well through tensions...and this is a tense situation.

"My fiancé is in the other room sleeping, would you like me to wake him up?"

Great! Just when he needed him Gavin had to decide to be asleep! Lance sighed, having to literally force himself not to roll his eyes. "No thank you. I'm..." Lance paused, tightly pursing his lips for a moment, "sure he had a busy night!"

"I do have one question for you though," Lance began, "what the hell are you trying to do to him? You cannot seriously be planning to marry the guy when I'm sure you don't even love him. All you want, in fact all you and your sister have ever wanted was information. Is that all you plan to get from him? Make Gavin sing like a canary and then kill em?"

This was mostly speculation on his part. With some of it, it had been pretty easy to put two and two together, especially when it came to Ana and Morgan. That plus the fact that either one or the both of them was always getting in the way, got Lance to seriously question just who the hell they really were.

She cocked an eye at the detective and moved from him into the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at in inquiries. "Tea?"

She was going to make him sit on his words for a moment, making him shake and question. She didn't care about any of what he just said, Lance Segar may be good at hacking into data files and extracting any information he wants...but he was no match for her. She didn't say anything for ten minutes or so as she watched the water heat up and poured two mugs of tea. She pushed one toward him on the table and set out cream and sugar. She took a page out of 'Gavin's useful tricks of avoidance'...trick 87: distract with food. She laughed internally.

"You are such a simple man Lance. You do realize Gavin asked me to marry him...not the other way around. I didn't coarse him, I simply acted like myself and suddenly he was besotted by me." She takes a sip of her tea, "He even told me he loved me after he climaxed last night in bed." Her eyes are dark as she eyes the man.

Lance paled at the visual Morgan had just given him; Gavin and her in bed having...oh God! Gavin may be head over heels in love with her but did the man really know what he was getting himself in to?!

"He may love you," Lance began, ignoring the offer for tea, "but I know what you are. You are nothing but a spider luring it's victim for the kill. Who's to say you didn't put some sort of spell on Gavin to make him love you!"

"What are you talking about? A spell how absurd." She quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering why he would choose such ideas. She is sure the Lance in this world is not familiar with magic.

"Honestly, magic? If that were possible I would have erased you from existence eons ago..." Her eyes grow soft suddenly, thinking about the man lying in bed behind them.

"You wrong about how I feel. You know nothing of the inner workings of my heart or Gavin's...our relationship is complicated I assure you but it is far from deceiving,"liar,"I am many things Lance, but business of the heart is not something I take lightly."

Her lip twitches slightly. "I love him..."

It is the first time she has admitted it out loud. Her ears burn as he enters, addressing his friend first and her second. She watches as he talks to Lance...suddenly feeling the need to show the officer exactly what has been going on behind closed doors.

In the back of his mind he hoped Gavin hadn't heard that. He didn't want to be dodging fists in a minute. He had to make Gavin see what Morgan was and what she was capable of doing...and what she had already done.

Gavin lay next to Morgan with his hands resting on his stomach. Sometime, in the night, he had rolled over so that he was laying prone. His moth is open a little. His lips twitch in his slumbering state. The dream he is having is surely a good one.

Blurrily, he opened his eyes as she kisses him. "Morning, Daffodil," he said. His voice is rich and tinged with sleep. Gavin yawns and nods. "Okay. If it's my boss, tell him I'll be in later." In his just waking state, he doesn't realize Morgan has no idea who his boss was or what he looked like.

After a minute, he got out of bed. Choosing dark brown pants and a button own the front shirt; he slipped his clogs on as he went into the kitchen. "Lance, hi," he said. His voice went high. "I'm glad to see the two of you getting along. At least, I hope you are."

He looked Lance over. It was business time. "I need to go. Remember, no business here," Gavin said. "And I think this is business. Make sure you lock up and I'll see you later for wedding stuff." he turned to Lance. "Shall we go?"

She grabs for Gavin and pulls him to her, kissing him hungrily as her fingers run through his hair, her body pressing into his. She will show this detective exactly how she feels for her toy. She releases him after an eternity, her voice deep and husky...aroused only for him. "Have a good day, Songbird."

He didn't say it when Morgan made the comment about erasing him from existence eons ago; if she had had magic that is but he thought to himself ["I already feel like I was, or should have been."]

Lance jumped slightly when Gavin came down the stairs and greeted him. Good, good...no flying fists, that was positive at least, still Lance knew that he had to tread carefully when it came to Gwaine and his...newest acquisition.

Watching Morgan basically throw herself at Gavin was nauseating to watch. Standing up, Lance had to physically fight himself not to start puking; it was that disgusting to him. When it was over he sighed with relief; perhaps a little louder than he should have.

"Yes, let's go." Lance replied, eying Morgan carefully. Most everything he had said to her was total speculation. In his other life he had never met her and didn't know the first thing about magic...except for Merlin's magic, but here he had ways upon ways of finding out things and he had gotten news from an unknown source that Morgan was much more than she seemed and from meeting her Lance could tell that at least that part of the message was true.

He nodded. "Indeed. We are very complicated, but it works," Gavin replied with a shrug. His eyebrow quirks as she admits she loves him. That was e time he'd heard her say it.

"You do? Blimey," muttered Gavin after he realized she said those three little words. A large grin covered his face. His eyes widen as she pulls him into a kiss. Oh, the pleasure! He pulls her to him and kisses her back.

Having cleared his throat as they release from the kiss. "Umm, yes, you too. I will see you later," Gavin said, closing the door behind them. Now, Gavin and Lance were in the hall.

"I, um, wasn't executing her to do that. Morgan is pretty passionate met of the time," Gavin mutters to Lance. "Sorry about that."

"So, where too? My office," he asked as they walked the halls. "Or for some coffee and waffles?"

"Waffles...sounds good." he replied. He didn't say what he had been thinking because he doubted saying 'anywhere that Morgan isn't going to be' would earn him any brownie points with Gavin. He headed for the door trying to get the whole 'kiss' scene out of his head. It was wrong on so many fronts that he didn't know where to start!

Great! I am starved," he said, closing the door. Gavin's tone was a bit perky, but it was also a bit sheepish. He hadn't expected Morgan to kiss him nor hashes expected her to be so passionate. there really wasn't a all for it. Plus, it wasn't proper. Gavin would have to ask her not to do that again. The thought they should save such a heavy make out session for the bedroom.

"I suppose you haven't heard anything from our mutual friends." Lance said. Of course he meant Bradley and Marty, but he didn't use their names. He really didn't care if Morgan overheard them or not, Lance just wanted to gauge how much, if anything Gavin knew on the matter.

Going to the front door he opened it and then walked out in to the sunlight. He really wanted to get as far away from Gavin's house as possible and for some strange reason he was now craving a hot shower and several bars of soap.

"Sorry, mate, I haven't heard from them since they left," Gavin replied. "Have you? I'm a Bit worried for them, especially that Marty kid. He tried jumping off a bridge. How can people get to such a low point that they decide that's the best move. I don't understand."

Gavin's got into his car and waited for Lance to get in. "I wasn't meaning to ask her to marry her last night. It just kind of slipped out. In honesty, I was trying to defuse a volitle situation. She had me tied up and I didn't know what she was going to do," he explained. "But, I do love her and I did eventually plan on asking her. Think, as my fiancé she should open up more. It'll be fine. You wanna be my best man?"

He slid in to the passenger seat, closing the door once he was inside the car.

"I haven't heard much of anything specifically from them but I've heard some things that have gotten me anxious and need to be looked in to. Your fiance for example; I don't think she's all that she appears to be."

Lance was about to continue when Gavin asked him something that shut him up big time. Best man?! Gavin seriously just asked him if he wanted to be the Best Man?!

"Why are you even considering marrying her? She...she...she has her own agenda in mind and I have a feeling that you aren't a vast part of it. I don't want to see you get hurt because of her." Lance said.

Gavin looked at Lance out of the corner of his eyes. He smirked a little bit and then shook his head. "Do you really think I've not been looking into her dealings? I've got a file on her a mile long. None of it is exactly damning proof of wrongdoings though. You ever heard the saying keeping your friends closer and your enemies closer? That's what I'm doing."

"You don't think I know that? Give me a little credit. Besides, if she was all that she appeared to be our haphazard and dysfunctional relationship would have been dull," he replied.

Gavin frowned and glared at Lance for a moment. "It may come as a big surprise, but I like her and she likes me. She may as well have her own agenda, but our nuptials aren't part of it. She had no idea I was going to ask her! We usually did quickies at her office or my place, but things had moved towards something more and different lately," Gavin retorted. "I know what I am doing. I won't get hurt. So what do you say?"

Lance gave Gavin his best 'evil eye' look. His friend was so sure of himself, so sure that he knew what he was doing! Most people said that though, and then they ended up getting burned. Oh well...if that was the only way for Gavin to learn then so be it. Lance just hoped that no one else would get caught in the cross-hairs, though when it came to Morgan he had a feeling that anything was possible.

He sighed and looked out the window of the car for a moment trying to actually picture himself as Gavin's best man. It was a bit of a scary image but it was doable. Finally he looked back at his friend. "Well...if you are absolutely sure you want to go through with this, then I'll do it." he said.

All of a sudden the phone in his pocket vibrated twice, a sign that he had gotten an email. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he selected the email app and waited for the page to load. Once it had he studied the email address. It was an older one that belonged to Bradley, even though Bradley had stopped using it long ago...or so Lance thought.

Opening up the email, what Lance saw set his teeth on edge. It was a recent picture of Marty and Bradley up at the cabin. Bradley had been standing outside with something in his hand and Marty had been at the door. Around the photo was a blood red cross-hair and the words 'Death to you all' written in a font that made the words look like they were dripping with blood.  
Lance ground his teeth together. This day just kept getting worse and worse!

Noting the look, Gavin raised his eyebrows. "What?" he asked. "Mate, I've known Morgan for years. I know what she's capable of and what she could do. I'm prepared. Besides, I think she might open up to me even more as her husband. Now, I know I can't give a statement against my wife, but I can leave anonymous reports and you can report anything I say. It might be hearsay evidence, but it still can be viable. Besides, in domestic situations, she's pretty normal. She likes good food…she likes a little banter…it's pretty nice."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, daddy dearest, I'm sure," he said. Gavin's face brightened. "Great! We'll need to go try on tuxes later."

Gavin looked at the photo. "We need to do it much later," he said. "We need to go check on those two. I don't like the looks of that. Call the station and forward that email to Percy, Lee, and Elyan...I mean Eli."

He drove down the street. "So, where's this place," he asked. "Looks like it's in the woods somewhere."

He too knew that once Morgan and Gavin were married then legally Gavin wouldn't be able to give testimony against his wife. He also knew that hearsay evidence wouldn't be submittable in a court of law. He was beginning to wonder if the two of them getting married was the right thing to do. Morgan was a criminal! Of course he couldn't exactly prove it at the moment he just had a feeling! That had to count for something, right?

Hitting the 'Forward' button on his phone, Lance quickly entered the email addresses for Percy, Lee and Eli, sending the email along with the picture once he was done.

"The picture was taken at the Pendleton's cabin at Scafell Pike, it's several hours away. The picture might be just a prank but we should make sure. Brad and that...Marty guy has had it rough. They don't need any more drama." Lance said.  
He didn't say what he thought; that someone was after Marty and Brad and that someone worked for or knew Morgan, or worse yet Morgan's supposed accomplice.

"Yeah. Never can be too careful, eh mate," asked Gavin. "I can get us there in an hour. I've got connections."

He looked over at Lance and flashed him a cheeky grin before pulling out his mobile phone. Flipping it open, the detective typed in a phone number. "Hey, Ben, I need a lift? Can you have the copter ready in 10," he asked. After a minute, Gavin continued, "Great! See you in a few."

Gavin closed his phone and put it in his pocket. Putting the key in the ignition, he started the car. "Mmm...hmmm," he said. As he drove to the air port, Gavin grew quiet.

Sitting at the red light, the dark-haired man asked, "So, why is Brad helping that kid? He's trouble. Been in prison nearly 20 times. Been investigating the Mysak's for years and Marty's name kept coming up. I'm kinda surprised he didn't arrest him cos of the paraphernalia." With the light turning green, Gavin started up again.

So Gavin had connections...he must have if he had just commissioned a helicopter! A helicopter was fast and it could get them up to the Pike in record time, now all that should be done was to alert Brad and tell him that they were coming.

Hearing Gavin speak, Lance glanced over at him. "I honestly don't know. I've never seen a more complete one eighty when it comes to Bradley's attitude towards Marty. There was a time when he'd sooner shoot the kid than talk to him, but now it's almost as if they were best buds...no...more like brothers or something. I can't explain it.

"I don't know why but I get the feeling that Brad knows the kid or had known him before but had forgotten that. From what I can tell there's a whole lot of mystery surrounding the Mysak's, especially the father." Lance said.

"Bud of mine from uni owns an airport so I can get a lift just about any time I need it. I also helped him with a missing dog case. Never buy exceedingly rare mutts even if they are pretty," he remarked as he pulled off the highway and drove down the smaller street.

"Yeah, I know. And that kid he'd rather have his teeth pulled without pain killers then accept help. What's going on? It feels wired and wrong," Gavin muttered while flocking hair out of his eyes. "I am still not so sure about what Brad is doing is safe, logical, or legal. That kid really ought to be imprisoned for more than 24 hours."

Gavin raised his eyebrows. "Oh really," he said about Bradley's connection to Marty. When the Mysak's were brought up. "You don't know the half of it. Dad was an inventor...mum a rich homemaker and Marty a talented artist. Dad was making a time machine, but was killed. Marty keeps calling in with supposed evidence. No idea of it got done of not."

Things were slowly falling in to place. He now had a picture of the Mysak family in his mind. Loving, but possibly crazy, inventor extraordinaire father, loving son, ice cold mother. Shake it all up, delete the father, and what are you left with?

Still that didn't fully explain the Pendleton's connection to the Mysak's, more importantly Bradley's connection with Marty. Lance knew what Bradley said about Marty but that was just hearsay; no proof of anything.

"I don't know. It almost seems to me as if things are coming to a head. It feels like our actions are somehow being controlled and that we are being directed to this one place in time." Lance said.

"I'm surprised Brad even wants to see Marty. I mean how many times can someone arrest a kid before an officer gets tired of seeing him," Gavin asked. It was a rhetorical question.

"After reading some of the reports I swear the kid tried to get arrested. Some of he accidental was involved with were kinda weird. I'm not sure he cares. He's apparently got nothing. His mum sold it all and threw Marty out. Not too much on here, but Marty and Basil... The dad there's a ton. My rosy on the dad though."

He stopped the car and got out. "Yeah, I think it might be. This feels like an important moment, mate..." Gavin said as he rubbed his forehead. "I hope there aren't any wilddeoren involved. I don't want to rub Gaya berries on my face."

Gavin frowned. That all sounded weird, but it also fit. "What am I talking about? What is going on," he asked.

"Wilddeoren? Come on Gwaine, Griffons are a lot worse than those huge blind rats!" Lance retorted.

He then stopped, a confused look coming to his face. Why the hell had he called Gavin 'Gwaine' and Wilddeoren and Griffons?! Where had he come up with that?!

"I...don't know. You know, for some reason I keep picturing you in full chainmail wearing a red cape with a golden dragon crest, with a freakin' sword in your hand. What the hell is that?" Lance asked.

The detective rolled his eyes. "Those things were loud and stinky," grumbled the man. "But, that wasn't the worst thing It was the berries! They made my face rash out. Why do you think I spent so much time in pubs?"

The young man frowned. "What the….I don't go to pubs often, maybe four times a year. What am I talking about? Blimey, this is weird, mate," Gavin said, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Gwaine…did you just call me Gwaine," the dark-haired man asked after a moment. "Not a bad name, mind you...I just don't think it's mine."

Gavin groaned. "Did you find YouTube clips of me doing reenactments and madrigal dinners? I was Sir Upir the rosy-cheeked ," asked the man as they landed in a clearing. "That was like...ten years ago. I needed to pay the rent."

"Gwaine…did you just call me Gwaine? Not a bad name, mind you...I just don't think it's mine."

Lance shrugged. "I don't know. I know your name is Gavin but...it's weird. I know your name is Gwaine as well. I can't explain it but...it's like I have this feeling. I don't know what YouTube videos you are referring to either, but I remember seeing you fight on many occasions.

"You were always the drunken sod who got in to loads of trouble at so many different pubs and taverns but at the end of the day you were always ready to defend Arthur." Lance snapped his mouth shut at that.

What the hell was he saying?! Arthur? Who the hell was Arthur?! Even as he wondered that, an image popped in to his mind of Bradley dressed in chainmail wearing a red cloak around his shoulders and a crown on his head.

Blinking Lance shook his head. Something was going on that was obvious. All of this had to mean something, the question was-what?

"Come on we need to find Bradley and Marty, perhaps they can shed some light on this mystery." he said.

Gavin found himself very confused. "You, uh, dot know if you called me Gwaine or not," he said with a bit of sarcasm. "Mate, I think you need to get a bit of sleep or maybe you need a pretty lass to take your mind off things." At that, Gavin winked.

"Oh that God. I don't want anyone seeing those bloody things. They are pretty embarrassing," he said with a sigh of relief.

He frowned. "Me, a fighter? Not sure if I could see me doing that, unless someone was in trouble," Gavin said, scratching his eyebrow. "Yeah, I could see me doing that."

"Hey! I wasn't as drunk as you thought I was. I just liked being in the pubs, like Merlin did. We'd have an ale and talk or maybe have a fist fight, if provoked," Gavin said. "It was more fun to have some trouble...made things interesting."

He chuckled a little, but frowned. "Didn't do it for Arthur at first. Merlin wanted my help," Gavin admitted. "But, what am I talking about. I don't know people named Merlin or Arthur."

"We are here. Start landing," he told the pilot. Noticing something by the lake, Gavin pointed. "Who's that? What is it?"


	48. Chapter 47: To a Head

The phone rang for what felt like forever. Her sister finally picking up. "Sister dear, why haven't you been picking up?"

Morgan's voice is sweet and loving, but the edge can be heard. "Do you miss me already? How is your songbird? Have you disposed of him yet?"

Ana's questions are met with silence...the woman sighs. "You haven't eliminated him yet have you?" More silence. "Morgan-"

"Were engaged." The words a short and to the point. The blond woman stares at the wall. She is still sitting in his apartment wearing his t-shirt, she bites her lip. She is waiting for the inevitable scolding from her sister.

"That is brilliant."

Morgan's eyes widen at Ana's words. "Brilliant?" She can hear the other woman chuckle.

"Oh Morgan, we wanted him to shut up and what a better way than to have him marry you? Anything you say to him afterwards will be inadmissible in court...its is beyond brilliant. How did you come up with that?"

Morgan is silent for a moment. "I didn't. I had him tied up and was going to take him out when he asked me. I didn't have to do much...I am as surprised as you."

Ana is quiet for a moment. Morgan hears more sinister chuckling. "That is beyond delicious Morgan. I applaud your efforts."

Morgan smiles, her look dark. "What have you been up too dear sister?" She is met with silence for a moment.

"I went to see Marty last night."

"Oh? And how did that go?"

She is met with chuckling. "He is as pathetic as always. He was sitting, curled up in a blanket and in tears in his dull blue eyes. I laid into him a bit. Called him pathetic, ya know the standard insults."

Morgan's smirk darkens. "I'm sure he didn't take much of a fancy to that." Her menacing giggles are heard through the receiver.

"Oh of course not, he told me I disgusted him and he wished I would leave him alone. How dull indeed...I think their up to something though. I am going to investigate that cave that was mentioned in his father's notes. I think they're going there as well...no time like the present to muck up my brother's plans."

Morgan plays with the helm of Gavin's shirt, an almost loving smile adorns her features. "Happy hunting sister. I have a wedding to prepare for...I might get married without you if you take too much time."

Ana laughs wickedly. "Then congratulations in advance. Get it done quick Morgan...don't want him finding out all your nasty little secrets."

The blond woman chuckles. "I may marry him...does not mean I trust him."

Ana chuckles. "Of course, you are a wise woman indeed."

They exchange pleasantries and the phones click. Ana stares at the mirror for a moment, the other woman lays on the floor, her emotions are bleeding and bruised. The emotionless case stands before the glass and suddenly wonders if it was right to kill a part of her being. Then, she realized she did not care.

The bike made a powerful sound as she road through the streets, her heart beating rapidly against her ribs as she swerved and turned at speeds that were beyond unsafe. She could feel the bloodstone heating up, pulsating under her jacket. Her smile is wicked under her helmet as she gets to the entrance of the cave, her bike finally slowing down.

She tosses her hair when she pulls off the helmet, not a strand out of place when she is done. She can feel the crunching of the leaves under her boots as she walks over to the entrance of the cave. Her eyes are dark and ready, her revenge is close, only a breath out of reach. She will find the machine first, she will take what is hers.

Her arm comes out in front of her, and her irises change to a powerful gold. "Luaidhe dom ar an meaisín."

A brilliant green glow simmers down her arm and through her hand and settles in front of Ana. It settles there for a moment, her eyes never changing back to jade. She can hear the whispers.

"Show me to the machine that will bring us back to Camelot."

The green glow circles once then moves towards the cave. A dark smile takes over her features as she follows the illuminated path.

The moment they arrived and Marty parked his bike, Bradley knew they were in trouble. There was another bike there and he would have bet a million dollars he had seen it before.

"Okay...no more arguing, no more bickering about everything that happened in the past. Someone else beat us here which means they already have a head start to the device. We need to double time it." Bradley said.

He got off the bike and walked over to the other bike. It had obviously been there for a little while because it was already cool to the touch.

"What'cha want to bet that Morgana or worse Morgause is already here?" Bradley asked, tightening the straps on his pack.

Fishing out a flashlight, Bradley turned it on and then headed in to the cave system. He was a little surprised that he didn't have to give Marty any directions. For someone who had never been to the Pike before, he had found his way with no problems.

Marty shrugged as he swung his leg over the side of his bike and got off. Hearing the 'no arguing' rule, the young man just shrugged. "We can handle it," Marty said. "We've been in worse situations. I doubt it would be easy to destroy the machine. It's in a rock."

The young man went over to Brad and stared at the bike. "I wouldn't doubt it. I think Morgana liked to do that to us a lot of the time," Marty said as he began to follow Bradley into the caves, but he stopped when he heard a crunch behind him. "Hold it, Brad. Something's behind us." Marty turned and found himself blinded by a flashlight.

"Hold it!" Shouted Leo, "Hands behind your back and don't make any sudden movements. Police!"

"Hey, Leo, mate, I think it's Bradley and that punk," Eli said as he positioned his flashlight on Bradley.

"What are you two doing out here? It's dangerous. I'd suggest you get home. There's an escaped convict running around," Percy said.

Bradley stopped when Marty warned him that someone was coming. He turned around but was almost immediately blinded by a flashlight beam to the face.

"Hold it! Hands behind your back and don't make any sudden movements. Police!" Bradley had been about to point out that he was a cop as well but before he could utter a sound another voice spoke up.

"Hey, Leo, mate, I think it's Bradley and that punk." Another flashlight beam hit Bradley for a moment and then both beams dropped. Brad blinked, seeing spots in his vision now thanks to the beam.

"What are you two doing out here? It's dangerous. I'd suggest you get home. There's an escaped convict running around."

"Percy, going home isn't an option right now. Marty and I are searching for something, something very important that belonged to his father. It's imperative that we locate this thing." Bradley replied. He didn't tell his brother officers that the thing he and Marty were looking for was a device that was supposedly a time machine, figuring that if he did say that it wouldn't go over too well.

Faced with these men, men who Marty knew somehow had looked to him for guidance and sometimes protection, Marty panicked. He could feel himself chicken out. It was as if his knees wanted to buckle so he crumpled into a ball, but he didn't budge; Marty just stood there, straight as a board, staring at the cops.

Percy raised an eyebrow. The look clearly said _Oh really? _"Listen, this track of yours really should wait. The convict's a murderer. It's not safe. But, if you want to risk it...go ahead. I'm just warning you."

Eli frowned. "What is it and why is it out in the middle of nowhere? How do you know the kids telling the truth? What if it's a trick?" asked the dark-haired man.

The warlock frowned at Eli, but it fell. He had betrayed them all. His past life was marred by the future. He was a failure and a mistake. He also knew he couldn't do it. Squeaking by the men, he went outside the cave.

As Marty went away from the place, he heard Leo ask, "You sure it's important? That punk, Marty just left. He must not care about the thing too much."

Marty shook his head. Coming to a lake, he sat down. Drawing his knees up, he stared out at the water with a sullen expression on his face.


	49. Chapter 48: Meeting Up

Gael had been keeping busy at the hospital. It seemed a doctor's work was never done, but more than once in the past several days he had had a feeling that something was off. Every time he dozed off he kept seeing something foreign yet familiar. A large room, a wooden bed that was set pretty low to the floor. Stone walls, shabby looking windows, an old wooden table piled high with books and what looked to be an old style chemistry set that those in the dark ages used.

When he saw that the first time only one word came to mind - 'home.' It was home and yet he didn't know why it was. He could almost see himself wearing shabby clothing, mixing and crushing different herbs in to a paste, putting it in to a vial and then passing it out as some sort of remedy.

Yesterday he had even been sent home by his supervisor when he kept asking for Hawthorn and after learning there was none available he kept asking different nurses to go pick some herbs. In fact he had been told he had referred to one male nurse as someone named Merlin. Funny he really didn't remember that.

Now he was in his car driving to who knows where. He felt an urging to go to someplace that was far away. He had been driving all night and he still knew he had a ways to go. He felt as if something was drawing to a close and that it was important for him to be there. Why that was he didn't know.

Meanwhile, Anthony Pendleton drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his car as he drove twenty miles an hour over the speed limit, desperately trying to get back to Scafell Pike. After dropping his son and that other boy off at the cabin, Anthony had gone back home, but when he was just twenty miles off he nearly was involved in a T-Bone car crash. He, in an attempt to avoid getting hit had jerked the wheel of the car sideways, somehow managing to turn the vehicle enough to avoid the collision with the eighteen-wheeler, but he drove in to a ditch and managed to knock himself out.

While he was unconscious he fell in to a dream state. In this dream state he saw many different things that he couldn't understand; a castle, his son Bradley wearing a golden crown and a bright red cape, a woman in a beautiful dress sitting right beside him wearing a smug look on her face, and that boy...Anthony saw him too. Bradley referred to him as Merlin, and the boy had called him 'Sire.'

Coming too, the elder Pendleton was so confused about what he had just seen. It felt so real; too real to be just a dream. In his heart he felt that it had actually happened; that it was actually his world and he belonged there. Once the tow truck arrived on scene, Anthony's vehicle was towed out of the ditch. It was fine, amazingly, so the elder Pendleton simply thanked the tow truck driver and then got back on the road heading back to the Pike.

He didn't know or understand why but he felt that he had to go back; it was like a calling that he couldn't explain but to him it felt as if everything that had happened to him was suddenly coming to a head; the end was very near.

Gael had seen the accident. He had been about ready to hop out and check on Anthony when the man just up and drove off after the car was pulled from a ditch. "What's that man doing," grumbled the doctor.

Without a second's thought, he followed the man. It seemed like the right thing to do. If Anthony passed out at the wheel, Gael could hop out and help him. Also, the lawyer seemed determined to get somewhere. Maybe Anthony was headed to the same place as Gael was (where ever that was).

The man had to stop on the breaks though when Harriet came running to the car. Had they passed her house? Gael looked over and sure enough, he was right in front of the mansion. Rolling down the window, he looked at the woman who was dressed in a flannel nightgown and clogs. A frantic and bereft expression was upon her face. It seemed she had remembered too.

"Harriet, what's the matter?"

"Oh, Gaius! I've been a dreadful mother," she sobbed. Tears lined her eyes. "I sent him away when he needed me the most! He was screaming for help and…and I was just a…a self-indulgent…" Harriet's voice cracked. "Something is terribly wrong. We shouldn't be here!"

"You're right," Gael said. "I've had the same feeling as you, Hunith. Come, get in. Something tells me things will be right again."

The woman nodded as she came around to the passenger side of the car. Opening the door, she got in and buckled up. After the door was closed, Gael started the car and they continued speeding along with Anthony not too far ahead of them.

Bradley looked in the direction Marty had been, only to find that he was gone, just as Eli had said. "Marty!" he yelled out after the raven-haired man, but there was no answer, Marty was gone. "Damn it..." The blonde muttered under his breath. A fine time for Marty to slip into that 'nobody wants me' mode of his.

"Listen...!" he said, returning his attention back to Percy, Eli and Leo, "Marty didn't really tell me much of anything about what we're searching for. Everything I know about it I learned from notes written by his father. His father understood what was going to happen long before any of us did and he was killed more than likely to keep everyone else in the dark. Marty's father created the machine that Marty and I are looking for. The machine is supposed to do one thing and one thing only; send us home...back where we really belong."

The guys looked at each other. None of them were quite sure what to think. It all seemed farfetched. Leo in particular found himself in disbelief. "If he didn't tell you much why did you believe him? Really what if it was a trick," Leo asked. Eli nodded in agreement.

"Leo, shut up," Percy muttered. "Brad's a smart guy. He wouldn't go off on a wild adventure for anything. He'd have to have some pretty damning evidence before believing him. Besides, this is…was Merlin! When did he ever steer us wrong?" This shut the other two men up.

"Don't you guys feel it too? Feeling that...something isn't right here? Feeling that we shouldn't even be here at all?" Bradley asked.

Percy nodded. "I do. I've felt it for a while. Been dreaming of castles and magical beasts and knights," he admitted. "I even went to a palm reader. She point blank told me I shouldn't be here. It was weird."

"Yep, you can say that again!"

"So, Princess, we're not the only ones? Great, let's go crazy together," Gavin said with a grin

Two voices rang out crystal clear from near the mouth of the cave. Glancing in that direction Bradley was stunned to see Lance and Gavin there, both of them holding large flashlights. "How did you guys get here?" Bradley asked, stepping past the other officers to grab Lance's shoulder in a manly hug.

"That's a long story my friend, but suffice it to say that there was a death threat on yours and Marty's life. Gavin and I just came up to see if you two were alright. We just found our way to this cave and heard you talking. Speaking of the kid, where is he?" Lance asked.

"Gone; ran off. I don't know where and the sun's going down. Soon it'll be too dark to search for anything and we are going to need Marty if we are to find the device." Bradley replied.

Lance smirked and shook his head. "Don't worry I'll find him," he said, clapping Brad on the shoulder before he turned and left the cave to begin tracking the other man.

Gavin watched as Lance trudged off. Then, he looked over at Bradley. "I have connections. Called a buddy of mine and we got a lift in a helicopter. Made the trip quick and easy," he said. "So, what's going on?"

Meanwhile, near the cave, Marty hunkered on the rock. His knees were drawn up and chin was pressed against it as he stared at the lake. Hearing someone approach,, Marty didn't look up. "I hear you, Lancelot," he whispered. The man would know the knights footsteps anywhere. "What do you want?"

Hearing his name being called, Lancelot shone the large, black flashlight up and the beam immediately fell on Marty who was sitting with knees drawn up on a rock, staring in the direction of the nearby lake.

"Marty...Merlin," Lancelot began as he hiked the short distance up until he was standing beside the younger man, "Are you alright? Arthur is worried about you. I think in some small way we all are. A lot of things have happened and while a lot of them have not been good, it has brought the two of you back together."

"Do you have to shine that in my eyes," Marty asked. His voice was quiet and his tone was flat. The young man was deliberately ignoring the question. He didn't really want to admit his weaknesses and faults.

He shrugged, but then shook his head. "What do you think," he asked. "I'm a recovering drug addict with a criminal past and depression. I don't think that's alright."

"I panicked and I just needed space. Seeing all of the knights along with Arthur, it was too much. I let them all down," Marty explained. "I couldn't face them. I couldn't face my destiny."

He snorted. "The only ones who care might be you and Arthur. The knights don't care. They just think I'm a no-good punk. Leon said it himself. Maybe he's right," the dark-haired man interjected.

"Merlin, you of all people should know that's not true. In Camelot, the Knights thought the world of you. The times when we would pick on you; eat up all the food and make it seem like we didn't save you any, or if we harassed you, it was all in jest. There was certainly never any intent behind it," Lancelot said.

"Lancelot, you're thinking in terms of two years ago when things weren't the way they are now…when we were in the past. And we're not in Camelot," Marty retorted as he looked over at the other man. "But, things have changed a lot. I am not that same person. They don't like me and they sure don't care about me. You didn't hear Leon before I left. He just thinks I'm a punk. He said so himself. He wasn't joking, either. He was so cold." Marty shook his head.

"None of it's been good, Lance, at least for me. The last two years have been hell," Marty muttered. "Yeah it might've, but for the most part it was him arresting me…I deserved it."

"Believe it or not you and Arthur were pretty close back in Camelot; more than master and servant. There was a real bond between the two of you that most couldn't understand, but it was there plain to see; it's still there."

"Oh, I know. I remember. I remember our bond," he replied. "But, I remember things I've done…things that aren't good. If I had just told Morgana the truth and not poisoned her maybe we wouldn't be here. I was a fool."

"You don't know that for sure Merlin. You keep thinking of Morgana as some sweet and innocent angel that was corrupted. If you hadn't of done what you did then Morgana would have won and none of us would be here; we would be dead and your destiny would never be fulfilled."

"No, I don't," Marty admits. "But, she was! She was my friend. She was a good person. She was scared and felt alone. If I had told her, I could've helped her and she wouldn't have turned to Morgause."

The young man gritted his teeth as he thought of his destiny. "I hate it…my destiny. Sometimes, I really loathe it. I don't want the responsibility. I don't like feeling so helpless and like everything is preplanned. I don't feel like I have any choices. I can't die when I want to," Marty admitted.

"If you had told Morgana the truth about your magic then you yourself may not be here. Morgana was already being corrupted by her sister. What makes you think that she wouldn't have tried to kill you herself once everyone else was dead? Yes you killed. Yes, you took a life and I know how hard that is to deal with. Just answer me one thing Merlin. If you had it to do over again and you chose not to kill Morgana, and she in turn went ahead and destroyed everything Camelot was and what it stood for; including all of its people…including Arthur, and you somehow ended up here just as you are right now, would you wish that you had killed her and somehow fulfilled your destiny?" Lancelot asked.

"It's just a feeling. When haven't my instincts been right? I just know what I did was the wrong move," Marty asked.

He shook her head. "If I hadn't I know thing would've worked out. Things would've been better. I could've helped her and taught her. She wouldn't have needed Morgause. Morgause was who wanted Camelot destroyed and not Morgana. She and I could've defeated her."

"Remember Merlin, Morgause _is_ Morgana's sister, it would only be natural for her to trust her own flesh and blood over someone else." Lancelot replied.

"Yeah, but Morgana wasn't raised with Morgause. She didn't know her most of her life," Marty whispered. "I just…I just think things could've been different. They should've."

Marty looked up at Lance. "I'd like to be alone now. Please," he said. "I need it. Tell Brad I'll be there soon."

"Okay," Lancelot said as he placed a hand on Marty's shoulder for a moment, "Just do me a favor and don't run off. You know how overly protective Bradley…Arthur…whatever…is over you so please…I don't think anyone wants to see him go in to freak out mode, because he's going to take it out on everyone."

Marty looked up at Lance when he met the other man's eyes. "I won't," he promised. "I'll get be back soon." His smile fell as he looked back at the water.

With that said, Lancelot walked away and headed back to the cave.

Back in the cave Arthur was just filling everyone in on what he knew. He told them about the device and what it was supposed to do, and the area in which it was supposed to be located; a type of oasis inside the cave system.

"Thing is, I don't believe Marty's father would have made it easy to locate or get to, but we need to find it before Morgana does. If she gets to get first she may try to destroy it and if she is able to destroy it...who knows...history may be altered." Arthur said.

Gavin nodded. "I read some of the papers and that guy didn't make anything easy," he agreed. "He also made things that were really boring to read, but that's a different story," he said.

"Who's to say that history hasn't already been altered? We don't even know how long we've been gone. While we've been here two or three years, it might've only been a day back in _our_ time or a decade might've passed," Percival pointed out. "What if there is no Camelot?"

"Are you sure this machine even exist," Leon asks. "Do you honestly believed Marty…Merlin? He's not exactly the most reliable bloke anymore. What if this is some scheme for drugs? While it would be great to bust a drug lord, I'm still wary of this."

"But, if we are sent back then any changes we have here would be erased; they wouldn't have happened," Arthur pointed out, "And Leon in this timeline Merlin may not be as smart as he was before, but I trust him with my life. How could this be a scheme for more drugs? We are out in a cave system with no drug or plant leaf within two hundred miles."

"I don't think time travel works that way. We'll still be remembered. We have had homes, girlfriends, paper trails, Youtube videos. We'll be remembered…just not for our past names. At least, that's how it is in books," Gavin said. "Sure Merlin is, Princess. He could've gotten into any school he wanted. I've got a mile-high file on the kid. He was offered spots in Yale, Harvard, Stanford, Cambridge, Oxford, and that's just a few of them. He just doesn't care. There's a big difference between carelessness and smarts."

Leon rolled his eyes. "Stop being so naïve. You have a drug addict on your hands. He isn't the same person, whether you want to believe it or not. Besides, he wouldn't have to pluck a leaf for drugs. He could've set up a meeting with a heroin dealer. It's kind of suspicious that escaped convict is running through the Pike right as you two are here."

"You asked me if the machine exists; I believe it does. However there is only one way to find out for sure; find it and then we'll know. Are you men up for a search or are you so convinced that this thing doesn't exist that you won't even bother?"

"Of course I am. I know something is going on," Percival said.

"I'm always in for a bit of an adventure," Gavin remarked with a grin.

"I'm going, but only to watch your back," muttered Leo. Eli nodded in agreement.

"Leon, you really are a shining ray of light today, aren't you?" Arthur asked in a _very_ sarcastic tone of voice. He was glad that they all were coming along; it would be like the good old days when they all worked together. He just wished they all would see that.

Leon sighed. "Forgive me for being prudent. I just don't want you getting hurt," he said. The man looked over at the caves. "Any idea where they went off too? They've kinda been gone a long time.

"Wow…Leon worried…never thought I'd see the day…!" Lancelot said, entering in to the cave. He immediately held up his hands when he saw that Bradley was about to speak.

"He's fine Arthur; Marty's fine. He just needs some time alone right now, though he did ask me to tell you that he'll be back in soon. I think everything has finally taken a real toll on him."

Arthur nodded his head a little. "Thank you, Lancelot," he said.

Leon sighed and rolled his eyes as Lancelot nodded to Bradley. Sure he got worried. He just usually didn't voice his feeling. Hearing that Marty hadn't left, he found he was a little surprised and slightly disappointed. He didn't really want to go on this adventure, but he would – if only to protect his friends.


	50. Chapter 49 The Dream

"We should stop here for the night, get some rest, and start out early," Lance suggested. His voice was calm, but his eyes conveyed the worries he had for his friend. In fact, he had been eyeing Marty as he spoke.

"Great! I'll get wood and a fire going. It'll be a nice camp out," Gavin said, heading off into the woods.

"I'll go with him," Eli said. Before there was a complaint, the dark man had left.

"I'll be back. We need water," Lance said, unaware that Brad and Marty had brought some. Soon, he was gone and had left Brad alone with Eli and Leo.

Bradley watched Gavin, Eli and then Lance walk out of the cave; all going for different things. It had been a very long day that was for sure, but fate somehow seemed to know better than everyone and it had brought them all together, just like old times only it wasn't.

Bradley may have been Arthur, but in the twenty-first century he wasn't a Prince so he had no real right to act like one. Sure, he wanted to go back home to his father, to his Camelot, to his royal birthright, who wouldn't in his position? However, he did have other people to think about not just himself; history be damned. If some of them didn't want to go back home then he certainly wouldn't force them to.

Kneeling down, Bradley removed all of the small twigs, sticks and pebbles he could find, tossing them in to a corner so when the fire was made everyone would be able to sit down on the ground without having to worry about being uncomfortable.

Gavin and Eli were the first to return from getting firewood. They set up a fire and got it going just as Lance returned. "Where's Marty?" he asked, looking around.

"I'm here. I have fish," Martin said, holding up a stick with fish. As Marty sat down and cleaned them, Lance smiled a little, despite himself and the situation.

Bradley watched Marty work, but he said nothing, giving the other man his space. They had talked for a very long time, going over the same things again and again. Marty was as pigheaded as ever and Bradley...he knew that he was just being stubborn in trying to convince his friend that he had done what he had had to do.

Not having a large enough pot, Marty put the stick-speared fish over the fire. As they cooked, he prepared the noodles. Marty didn't talk or say anything as he worked, although he was aware of wary eyes on him. With the food done, he served them all. Helping himself to food, he went over into a far corner and ate without saying a word.

Bradley and the others actually thanked Marty when he brought them their food; Percival even invited the warlock to sit with them, but obviously the younger man hadn't been up to it because he just went to a far corner of the cave. After he had eaten, Marty lay down on his side. Facing away from the group, he pulled his knees up and fell asleep. His brow was furrowed and lips pursed – even in rest, his mind wasn't at peace.

Gavin noticed and for a moment, he showed a bit of apprehension, but the guy didn't comment on it. Stretching, he yawned. "I think I'll do the same. Nothing like going to bed after a good meal," Gavin said instead as he lay down on the ground. The others nodded and rose up as well; following suit. They stayed away from Merlin, deciding to curl up side-by-side on the other side of the cave. Once everything was silent again the only two awake were Brad and Lance.

"Hey," Lance whispered, looking over at Marty. "He is so broken inside. He barely can keep it together and keep going. Everything he's gone through, it weighs so heavily on him."

Brad threw some more wood on to the fire, stirring it and making the flames burn higher for a moment. He then looked over at the sleeping warlock and even he could tell that the young man looked to be in distress; even in sleep. "I know. I honestly do not know how he is holding on right now," Bradley replied softly so as not to wake up the others.

Lance sighed as he picked up at stick. Fiddling with it, the man drew circles in the dirt. "He's holding on because he has to, not because he wants to," he whispered. "Marty's living because his body is strong. Guess he has good lugs and heart. Mentally I don't think he is holding on though. I think he's doing everything by rote. He does because he has to."

"What are we going to do? How can we help him?" Lance asked. "Do you think that going back is the right thing? They won't understand what's wrong or why he's acting like he is. They might think he's enchanted or something. I've seen it before, sadly."

Lance sat down beside Bradley. "It's more than what he did to Morgana though. He has a destiny. It's to protect you at any and all cost. His duty is to keep you alive so you can become King, unite Albion, and create a golden age. Destiny will do anything to make that happen, even if it means he lives from fatal wounds," he explained.

"Back in our world, he lost so much and had to hide so much. He lost his childhood friend, his lover, and his father. It was hard on him. He tried not to let on how much it troubled him. I wish I had known. Now, he feels like he failed us all. It's why he bolted. He's ashamed," Lance whispered. "Maybe reliving those losses here is what hurt him the worst. Why didn't Hunith take care of him when it was apparent he needed help? She seemed so loving."

Lance nodded to himself as he thought back on his and Merlin's friendship. "I think he hid more than he let on. There were times I knew there was more to the story, but he would never say anything. I don't think he liked lying and covering things. I think it all ate at him," he mused. "And when he got here, it still ate at him, but he didn't know why because he didn't remember."

Bradley sighed heavily. He knew about destiny, it had been drilled in to him every day. Destiny was probably the one good thing Uther had ever taught him; it had made him strong-willed and kind of heart, but now as he sat there staring in to the flames he wished that it wasn't his destiny to rule; to become King and unite Albion. Merlin had risked so much for him time and again and for what? So he could lose his childhood friend William? What about Freya and Balinor? None of them deserved to die. Bradley knew that he would give everything up in a millisecond if it meant Merlin could get them back.

"Hunith...I...can't speak ill of her. She is his mother after all. Back before everything happened she was great, but when we were all brought here...she became someone more; someone with power and I think that got to her. It gets to everyone eventually." Bradley said.

Lance raised his eyebrows. "But, you want to, don't you," asked the man. "I sense there is something more happening here."

"Of course I want to Lance! Hunith...what she did to Merlin in this time line...it really is inexcusable no matter what the circumstances. While she didn't do it directly, she certainly helped to contribute to his current state of mind." Bradley replied. He shook his head and then ran his hand down the back of his neck in a frustrated manner.

Hunith; he had only met her that one time but she had always seemed so nice; so loving towards her son, but Bradley knew if he could see her now, he would do more than bite her head off, he would certainly tell her to stay away from her son; he has had enough hurt and pain from her to last a life time!

Lance raised an eyebrow. "What did she do? He wasn't abused was he," the man asked in a worried voice. "I haven't really had any contact with him for the last couple years. I didn't know…"

He brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. "Come on, Brad. You're my partner on the force, well were, you can tell me. You can tell me anything. I want to help Marty, but I can't if I don't know."

"If Hunith couldn't care for Marty, what about Gaius or Gael," Lance mused. "He loved Merlin like his own son! Why didn't he help Marty? Didn't the kid have anyone here?"

Bradley shrugged. "Maybe Gaius tried to help and Marty didn't want it. Marty was pretty unstable back then. Of course I don't know; it's just speculation. Perhaps we will never know what went on between them, and it's not really our place to know."

"And he's stable now? I'm not so sure about that," he remarked. "But, he probably didn't want it. Merlin sure didn't want help back in Camelot."

"So he was homeless?" Lance half-asked and half-stated and then he thought about the arrests Marty had been through. "You know, he never gave any addresses. Sometimes, when he was brought in, I got the feeling he wanted arrested. There would be this smirk on his face when you'd book him."

"Lancelot, I am worried about him; about Marty. He's gone through so much already, including the suicide attempt. I know he'll never be the same person again, but...I just have this aching fear that even if by some miracle we are able to get back home, that self-hatred he has built up will keep nagging away at him and will eventually drive him to attempt suicide again. I want to help him. I don't want to see him suffering, but I don't know how."

"Yeah, me too, mate. I don't know how he's made it this long. He has gone through a lot. There's no denying it," Lancelot agreed. He shook his head.

"No, he won't be. Do you think we'll ever see him smile or laugh again? Will that light be back in his eyes," he asked in a quiet voice.

He sighed. "That's a strong possibility. He could try it again and he could keep trying to he succeeds. There's no telling," Lancelot whispered. "I want to help him too, but I couldn't tell you how. We just got to take it an hour or a day at a time."

_His world was full of mist. Screams of pain, screams of fear, screams of anger filled his ears. Sweat and blood perfumed the hazy air. It was all encompassing and so thick, Merlin felt like he was choking on it. He could scarcely catch his breath. _

_The young warlock looked around. They were outnumbered – there were three of them to probably twenty-five of the others, all marked with the crest of Gorlois (Morgause's father) – and were quickly tiring. Merlin's gaze fell on his father. Blood poured from an arm wound, which was not as bad as it looked, but oh the blood was so bright and violent against the cold, white mists. _

_Merlin wished he hadn't begged his father to come back. How selfish of him! Now, they would all be dead and it would be his fault (his and only his). _

_He glanced at Arthur, whose face was contorted in determination and slicked with sweat while freckled with blood. The Prince's arm was sagging with the weight of the sword. He was huffing. Arthur was draining of energy and fast. Had his wounds even fully healed? Arthur shouldn't be fighting! _

_Somehow, their enemy knew it. Knew with absolute uncertainty that he shouldn't be fighting and so they pounced. _

_This was so wrong! Slowly, the warlock backed. He didn't know what to do or what to think. All of a sudden a scream filled the air. It was so gut-wrenching that it almost seemed to make everything stand still._

_Merlin turned and looked up on the hill that was behind him. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes when he saw who had been the cause of the scream._ "_Mother...!" he whispered, not believing what his eyes were seeing. There on the hill was Hunith, but she was dressed all in black. Someone was standing beside her and even as Merlin watched, that somebody thrust a sword through his mother's abdomen._

"_NO!" he yelled, raising his arm so he could cast a spell and fling the stranger away from his mother, but before he could cast any sort of spell the stranger turned his head to face the warlock. The black hood was lowered from the man's face and when he was revealed, Merlin fell to his knees, not understanding what he was seeing._

_The stranger, all dressed in black and covered with Hunith's blood was himself! The Merlin that stood on the hill had short hair and ivory colored skin but his ocean blue eyes were almost completely black and devoid of caring._ "_This is what you are Merlin," The one on the hill said. "This is what you are and this is what you always will be."_

_All of a sudden the evil Merlin pointed out on to the battlefield. "You have failed at so many things and you will fail at so many more. Arthur, he hates you. He acts like he doesn't; acts like he cares, but it is so obvious he would rather that you weren't his manservant. Destiny it seems wants you and he to work together to create a better world for everyone but..."_

_An ear piercing scream spread its way across the field, causing everyone to stop fighting and look. Slowly, four people stepped away from Arthur Pendragon_ _and the Prince of Camelot slowly sank to his knees, his face growing pale. One of Gorlois's men was standing over the Prince, his sword tip tinged with blood; Arthur's blood._

_Time seemed to stop as the swordsman walked in front of Arthur. Merlin saw the Prince's pained expression as he looked up in to the dark face of the person that was going to end his life. Then the sword was thrust through Arthur's chainmail and deep in to his body, destroying many of his internal organs._

"_ARTHUR!" Merlin screamed, a few tears running down his face as he saw his beloved Prince and friend slump to the ground and lay there still._

"_It looks like Albion well never be now." The evil Merlin said with glee in his voice. _

_The warlock raised his hand, his eyes glowing gold for a moment and then suddenly the one that had killed Arthur was flung away from him. However, when that person hit the ground and his helmet was ripped away, Merlin saw that the one who killed Arthur was none other than Arthur Pendragon, but this Arthur, just like the one on the hill had dark eyes and an uncaring look on his face._

"_I don't understand," Merlin gasped as he watched more of the men charge forward. "Why? What is the meaning of this?" _

_He heard another scream. It was that of a brave man. This was a man that had seen much loss and destruction. The cry came out as shocked, as if this proud man actually had never screamed before. "Father!" he yelled, pushing past the man who had done this. _

_Merlin knelt beside the dying man. He touched his face. His fingers trembled as tears fell. "I'll help you," he promised._

"_You won't! You can't! You never do! All you do is destroy. Damn you, Merlin. Get away from me, let me die in peace...away from you!" breathed the man before taking his final breath._

_It's was Merlin's turn to scream. He let his head fall back. His chest was heaving. This was so wrong!_

"_He's right, Merlin. It's all you do…destroy," hissed Will. _

"_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I want to help!"_

"_You just keep telling yourself that," Will spat as a being crept behind him._

_"Watch out, William!" he shouted. It was too late. As evil Merlin's eyes flashed, Merlin's best friend gasped and grabbed at his throat. In horror, he watched the man's eyes roll back in his head and fall to the ground. _

"_Stop it!"_

"_I will…eventually."_

_Merlin's stomach cramped. He bent forward and began to throw up. "Please, stop," Merlin begged but Evil Merlin didn't stop._

"_Surely you must be glad to see all of your problems being dealt with. Your mother and father were just holding you back from your true potential. Hunith with all of her disgusting mothering, and Balinor...he was never there for you! William wanted you dead, he was going to tell the others in Ealdor about you, but you left before he could. And Arthur! The second he found out about you he would have had you burned at the stake without a second thought! It is better this way Merlin, better for everyone." Evil Merlin said._

"_NO! Gods, no," he gasped. "They're what kept me going. I needed them!" Merlin shook his head. "My father didn't know! How could he with the Purge? He had to run."_

_The warlock balled his hands up and gritted his teeth. "Lies. Those are lies and you know it. He was my friend. He understood. You're just making excuses," he whisered. "You're just making excuses." _

_The warlock was still bent forward on the ground, tears running down his face and on to the green grass below. Suddenly a voice came to him from off in the distance._

"_Don't cry, Merlin. It'll be all right," Freya said, rushing over to him. But, before she could reach him, the dark Merlin raised a hand. Eyes flashing, she was thrown against a tree. With a sickening crack Freya fell…dead. _

_Then, the scene changed. They were in the throne room. Merlin was there with Morgana. Dark Merlin lurked in the shadows. A twisted smile was on his face. "No," he whispered._

"_Come now Merlin. We both know that this was your finest hour. You actually managed to take someone's life. Did you enjoy that feeling of absolute power?" Dark Merlin's voice drifted through the darkness._

_Merlin heard the words but apparently Morgana didn't because she took no notice of them. He looked over at the dark Merlin and shook his head. "It killed me," he whispered, wiping his eyes and yawning._

_Turning back to Morgana, he balled his fists. "Morgana," he gasped. "Morgana, what's the worst thing you ever did? What…what would you do to save your friends and Camelot?"_

"_Merlin, brother, whatever are you talking about? Why does Camelot need saving? We are not under attack. Come I will show you." she said, leading the way towards a window that opened of its own accord._

_Brother? What was she talking about? They weren't related. Merlin found that he was confused and deeply troubled by her words, but the warlock didn't correct her. He shook his head as if to rid himself of bafflement._

_"Most of Camelot is asleep. If we don't act. If I don't act, Camelot will fall," Merlin replied, yawning again. _

_Morgana looked back to him, her face clearly showing that she was confused. "Asleep? Have you been at the gin again Merlin? No one is asleep, apart from Queen Ygraine. She's sick today."_

_He shook his head. "No! Of course not," Merlin breathed. "Morgause has cursed us." The warlock's brow furrowed. He didn't understand what was going on. _

"_Ygraine's dead, Morgana. She died in childbirth," he replied. "And even if she wasn't alive, why isn't she with Uther? I don't understand." _

_He let Morgana lead him to the window. What was the worst that could happen? "Please, answer my questions. What would you do? If you must, think in hypothetical terms," Merlin said. _

"_See? Our father, King Balinor brought peace to the land. You fought with him on the battlefield. Do you not remember Merlin? You went to battle against Uther Pendragon and his family, they were trying to usurp the King's power. You yourself delivered the fatal blow to Uther's son Arthur. It was that bold move that ended the conflict and brought peace to Camelot."_

_"Our father," Merlin said in a daft tone. He blinked once or twice. Why had he made Morgana his sister in his dream? Looking out at the city, he saw fires burning and people sleeping. Alarmed, the warlock looked over at Morgana. She seemed unaware of what was happening. _

_Numbly, he shook his head. "No, no, I don't," he said. "I would never fight Arthur. I wouldn't kill him." Merlin backed away from Morgana. His eyes were wide and filled with mania. _

_"Balinor is not your father. He's mine. He...he's a Dragonlord. He was a Dragonlord, but he was killed, slain by mercenaries. I held him as he died," he gasped, tears falling down his face. "I couldn't save him. I couldn't."_

_Morgana had turned from the window, eyes never leaving Merlin as he gasped and started to cry. "Merlin, honey, what's wrong?" Morgana asked, only it wasn't her voice that came out of Morgana's mouth, no it was Hunith's. All of a sudden Lady Morgana's body morphed in to that of Hunith, who quickly embraced her son, holding him tight._

_Merlin backed up slowly as Morgana sounded like his mother. Hearing that voice, the voice that had caused him so much pain in the last two years, he stiffened. "Why do you care," Merlin snapped, although his voice was barely above a whisper. "You didn't care…"_

_When she grabbed him, he found himself terrified and cringing under her touch. Merlin's knees buckled as he stated to shake. "You're not real. _ _You can't be. You're just my imagination," Merlin muttered. _

"_Merlin, you know you did wrong, you know you caused your father's death not just in one time line, but in the other. You are an evil, wicked son, but it is not too late to redeem yourself. Balinor would have wanted you to."_

_Defeated and fully believing the dream woman, Merlin nodded. His chest burned and his heart ached. "I am trying to. I want to," he whispered. _

"_Merlin!"_

_The warlock had been so confused and he was still crying hard when his mother had embraced him. However, when someone else called his name, Hunith released him so that he could turn tear filled eyes to the middle of the room where Morgana knelt on the cold floor. In her hands was a flask of water with the top off. Standing before her was Evil Merlin._

"_You must drink it," Evil Merlin said, "For everyone's sakes."_

"_Please, Merlin!" Morgana said, turning tear filled and frightened eyes to Merlin even as the hand that held the flask of water rose to her mouth seemingly of its own accord._

"_Please don't make me drink this! Please don't kill me! You have to save me Merlin! Please! You must save me!" She begged._

"_Yes, Merlin, do save her," Evil Merlin said in a sarcastic tone of voice. "Oh but I forget! He can't save you, Morgana dear. Would you like to know why? He is so convinced that seeing Prince Pendragon become King and Albion come to pass is his destiny that he doesn't care what he has to do to achieve that. You see...he already has killed you. Can you not feel it Morgana? The poison slowly eating away at you, closing off your airway?"_

_Evil Merlin gave the warlock a genuinely sadistic grin. "There is but one way to save her Merlin. That is what you want to do; save her? To do it, when you awake you must kill everyone; all of the Knights, your dear little Prince as well and then you must destroy the time machine device. If you do not then Morgana will be dead to you and she will hate you forever. Can you not see that she loves you Merlin? All you need do is look in to her eyes and you will see that she does," Evil Merlin said._

_Merlin couldn't move forward. His eyes were wide and lips pressed tightly together. The warlock wanted to pull the flask away in hopes that she hadn't had much and he could save her. When the Evil him spoke, the warlock looked over at him._

"_How would that help anyone," he asked. "How would destroying the only way back help? It doesn't make sense. We don't belong in the 21__st_ _Century. Arthur doesn't want to be. And I'm not going to kill them! I can't. Please, you can't make me."_

_How would it help? By killing Arthur and the Knights and destroying the machine you would unleash an ancient magic that sorcerers and witches placed on the land ever since time began. Do you not see Merlin? It is they that stop the power as they have always stopped it. Magic means nothing to them, they would rather see it destroyed than harnessed for it's true purpose._

_Merlin pressed his lips together and shook his head. "It's wrong. It's all wrong," he hissed. "We don't belong where we are right now and it's our only hope. We need the past. We need to be there."_

"_I'm not going to do anything," Marty said. "I know what you say is wrong. I've seen ancient magic. It doesn't belong. It only destroys. I don't belong. I destroy. I don't want to, but I do. It's gone on too long." _

"_You, Merlin, think that your destiny is one thing because many people told you it was, _ _but what if it was all a lie, hmm? The most powerful warlock to ever exist and he is reduced to groveling on the floor, serving as a mere servant boy to a soon to be King that wants nothing to do with magic. Oh, he says he does but what do you think will happen once he gets you back to Camelot? Merlin, think! The Pendragons will have you killed! Your life means nothing to them! Your destiny is not to serve them; not to protect them in the hopes of creating a land that will never exist. Your destiny is to destroy those who oppose magic! Your destiny is to free all magical beings from the tyranny of oppression. Once you have killed the men in the cave and have destroyed the machine you will be taken back in time to this particular moment in time. You will be given the chance to save your Morgana."_

_Merlin jerked his head. "You're the liar. I know in my heart it's the truth," he said. "I don't grovel. I'm where I am supposed to be. Arthur knows now and he doesn't care. He can change things. He will. Uther might never change. I don't expect him to…"_

_His throat burned. He could hard speak. "My life might be nothing to them, but it's the only life I have. You are wrong about all of that. Wrong! I can't do it without Arthur. I won't," he muttered. He gaze at his evil self. _

_His eyes darted over to Morgana. "But, I don't love her! I don't want to love her," Merlin whispered. "She was my friend, but she was killing everyone. But she didn't know. I could've helped her. I should've!"_

_Marty then found he could move. He strode forward and took the flask. Tilting it up, he downed the poisoned water. "And if my destiny is to kill and destroy, I won't live. I choose death," he whispered. _

Lance heard the screaming and rustling. Instantly, the man was up and over to Marty. All of the other men were up and looking worriedly at the man. "Merlin," Lance said, placing a hand on Marty's shoulder and shaking him. "Marty, wake up. Arthur, over here! Please."

Arthur rose up from his seated position on the ground and rushed over to Lance's side, kneeling down by the Knight as he once again tried to wake up the warlock.

Merlin was not waking from his sleep. He was thrashing and fighting both Lance and thin air. Tears and sweat streamed down his reddening face. Marty had drawn his hands to his head, as if in pain.

"What's wrong with him," Gavin asked, going over to the struggling man. He pressed a finger to his check. "Geeze, what's he dreaming up? His pulse is high!"

"I don't know, but whatever it is we need to snap him out of it." Bradley replied. He grabbed his water bottle, popped the top off and squeezed some of the water out, dribbling it directly on to Marty's face. "Come on Marty, snap out of it!" he called.

Marty jerked upwards as he gasped as the water hit him. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around his waist. Rocking, he drew his knees. "Get them away from me," he begged, glancing at Gavin, Percy, Eli, and Leo. "Please."

"I'll get him a blanket," Lance said. Digging into a pack, he came out with a silver thing, which he draped over Marty. Standing back up he turned to the others, holding out his arms in a non-confrontational way. "Come on guys, let's give him space." he said, ushering everyone to move away. The men nodded and left Marty alone with Bradley.

Marty pressed his hands to his head. "It hurts," he moaned, his heart was still pounding and tears falling down his face. "I think I'm going to be sick." The young man shakily stood. Going behind a boulder, he threw up. Bradley watched him, a look of worry on his face but he said nothing until Merlin had finished puking and returned.

"I'm a monster," Merlin said as he continued to hold his head. "Oh, God, it hurts."

It was obvious Bradley didn't know what to do. He was worried that Marty's head injury was acting up. Perhaps the boy needed to be taken in to the hospital but that meant abandoning the quest and if they did that and Morgana destroyed the machine...

He paused. What was more important? Marty's health or them getting back to Camelot? Biting his lip it was clear that Bradley had come to a decision. If it meant giving everything up he would do it as long as it meant Marty would survive.

Gently he gathered the younger man in to his arms, picking him up bridal style. "Come on Marty," he said in the softest voice he could muster, "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," Marty said. He shook his head and gritted his teeth. A look of sheer determination shined in his eyes. "We can't go back. It's hours from here. We're not giving up. I choose death over failing. I won't give up on this. I won't let it be destroyed."

"Marty..." Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "I don't want the machine destroyed either, but I'm willing to let it happen if it means getting you help."

"It's our only way to get home. We don't belong here," Marty pointed out. He knew leaving and turning back was the wrong thing to do. If they did, they would fail. He didn't want them to fail. He also didn't want to see another hospital as long as he lived. Marty had seen too many since coming here.

His head felt heavy and so he leaned it against Bradley's shoulder. "I just need to calm down. It'll be OK," he said. In Brad's arms he shivered. Images of the dream flashed in his mind, making his pulse race.

"Do you really care or are you just pretending," he asked. Marty's eyes were wide and filled with fright. "You can be honest with me. I'll understand."

Bradley had a look of total confusion on his face. "I don't know what you are talking about. Care or pretend about what?" he asked.

He looked up at Bradley and shook his head. However, that sent more pain through his skull and so he stopped. "About me," he muttered. It was quiet and under his breath, so Marty doubted the other man could hear him.

Marty rubbed his temples. His head was pounding and the pain was so great he felt breathless. "I had a nightmare. I wanted myself to destroy the machine and murder you and the knights," Marty said as tears filled his eyes. "And at one point I watched as another form of me killed my mother, my father, Will, Freya, Morgana... It was horrible."

Marty glanced at Bradley. He then proceeded to tell him the dream point by point. By the time he was done he was sweating and crying as his heart raced and body shook. "Go ahead, call me a girl. I know you want to," Marty sad through the sobs. "Panicking over a nightmare? By the gods, that's stupid." Inside, it didn't feel stupid, although it did make him feel a bit silly. It felt very real and very horrible

It was only after he finished speaking that Bradley understood the earlier question. When Marty had begun to relay the tale, he had placed Marty down on the ground close to the fire so he could get warm, and then the blonde had sat down next to the younger man. Now that Marty was finished, Bradley didn't know what to say.

On the ground, Marty drew his knees up so that he was practically folded into himself. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees. After telling every detail of the dream, he felt drained. Tiredly, he sighed.

"Marty, I do care about you. You are my friend, and in most respects, you are the brother I never had. I thought that about you back in Camelot and my feelings haven't changed just because we are in a different century. I would never have you killed for knowing magic and I would make sure my father wouldn't know either."

As Brad spoke, the young man raised his head a little. He stared at the other man with a critical eye, as if trying to judge whether or not he was lying. Marty made no move to respond to the first part of the blond-haired man's words.

"I think I figured out you wouldn't have my head on the chopping block years ago, but I never knew how to tell you the truth," Marty admitted. "But, your father…I knew if he found out I wouldn't last a day. The castle has ears and eyes…someone would've seen or heard and told him. Then, no matter what, there would've been nothing you could do to stop your father. I tried not to use magic…much in the castle."

"Your destiny is not something anyone can decide for you. You have the power to choose your own destiny, your own fate, be it protecting me or just stepping back. It is your choice Marty; yours and yours alone. I am sorry you had to relive your father's death and see the death of your friends and loved ones, even if it was only a dream. Perhaps your mind is trying to tell you something, but what that something is only you can figure out." Bradley said.

Marty shook his head, shifting the blanket away from his face. "I'm not so sure about that. I have tried to choose my own path. I've tried not protecting you. I've even tried running away…with Freya…we were going to run away that night she was killed. It doesn't seem to work. I always get pushed towards what the prophets dreamed for you and for me," Merlin said. "Why else would I have lived from stabbings, poisonings, or falling 100 some feet from a bridge? Some may call it luck or divine intervention, me? I-I don't know what to call it."

Marty felt sick and tired of being sick and tired. He wanted things to change, but wasn't even sure how to make it happen anymore. That fine line had become a blur ever since he had poisoned Morgana.

Bradley and Marty fell silent, each giving the other time to think and time to process what had already been said.

"I've always felt like a monster because of what I was born with. I know I blame myself for a lot of things. The other me, he told me to kill you and the others, but I know I'd rather die than hurt you or the knights, which is how it all ended…the dream."

Marty's voice echoed around the cave. Slowly, Bradley first looked up and then turned his head to look at the younger man. "It sounds like your dream was very terrifying. I cannot imagine the pain and heartache you must have felt having to see, hear and feel all of that. I know if I was born with magic I would feel the same way; like a monster. Some sort of beast that everyone should be afraid of. I was always taught that magic was something to be hated and feared but Marty, I neither hate nor fear you. You are not a monster to me or the people of Camelot. If anything you are what they call the unsung hero."

Marty didn't return the gaze. He just stared in front of him with sour expressions of weariness, self-contempt, and sadness on his face. "It was," he muttered. His voice was lacking emotion. "It was horrible and there was nothing I could do to stop it, even though I wanted to."

He sighed as he pulled the blanket higher onto his thin shoulders. "I'm the only one of my kind. No one else has ever been born with magic. It scares people I used to be scared of it because at times I had no control over what I did. I didn't understand what I was doing or how to stop it," Marty whispered. "I don't want to be. I don't want to be a monster. All I've done, is try to help."

"Hero? Me? I've just done what needs to be done," he replied with a shrug.

"You have risked your life time and again not only protect me but to protect the people as well. We all owe you our lives, Marty. If we do get back and when I become King, I promise you that the ban on magic will be lifted. When that day comes you and all magic folk will have nothing to fear from Camelot any longer," Bradley said.

Marty nodded. He didn't feel like replying or talking anymore. "Thank you," he did say. "It's what I've wanted since I got to Camelot."

The young man yawned and laid down. "Night," he whispered. Pulling his knees up, Marty fell asleep again.

Lance went over to Brad and sat down. For a few minutes, he just stared at the sleeping man. "Is he okay," he asked in a worried tone.

Bradley sighed and shook his head. "Physically he's exhausted, mentally…he's not okay and I don't know if he ever will be. I keep telling myself that he'll recover once we get him back home but I don't see that happening anymore. If I thought it would help him I would just suggest we all stay here but it would be a constant struggle for him with all of the drugs."

Lance nodded. He didn't think Merlin would be all right either. Something broke within him and the man could not see how it could be fixed. A lot of it was from the drug use and the family issues, but some of it was from the injuries Lance figured. His brain had been damaged from the falls, the stroke, and the surgeries. "He wouldn't let us…or you desert our destiny, even though it's killing him," he whispered.

Shaking a little, Bradley stood up and walked to the mouth of the cave, looking up through the trees at the night sky. Deep down he had a feeling that Merlin was just too far gone to recover. Perhaps he should have just let the younger man die; least then he wouldn't be in pain anymore.

Lance watched as Brad went to the cave. Sighing, he looked over at Marty. Then he laid down and fell asleep.

"I don't know what to do Lance. I really don't know what to do anymore." He softly mumbled in to the night.


	51. Chapter 50: Through the Caves!

Marty was awake before anyone else. Cautiously and quietly, he got up, grabbed his bag, Bradley's gun, and went to the lake. Stripping and with a bar of soap in hand, he dove in. Scrubbing up, Marty quickly got out (it was too cold to stay in long), dried and slipped on jeans, t-shirt and a green hoodie as well as his boots.

Taking his anti-depressant and methadone, he took the gun and wandered into the woods. This would be interesting. Hopefully, he could catch something and not make too much of a racket. Spying a boar, Marty smirked. He prepped the gun, aimed, and shot the beast dead.

Back at the camp, everyone woke. Lance stood - his heart was pounding. "What was that?!" he asked, even though he knew Looking around, the guy noticed Martin was gone. For a moment he was afraid that last night had been too much. "Oh, God…we got to go find Merlin!"

"Why, I'm right here," Marty said, laying the boar down. "I went hunting for breakfast…."

Everyone present had jumped to their feet; Gavin and Percy reaching for their guns and Leon reaching for his phone, but they all heaved sighs of relief when Marty had spoken up and then placed a freshly-killed boar down on the cave floor.

Marty stared at them. When the guns were pointed towards him, he raised his hands. The pistol hung from his finger and swung a little. "Is killing a pig for food a crime," he said with a little bit of sarcasm.

He lowered his hands and went back out of the cave to grab his bag, which he'd left by the lake. Coming back in, he knelt and fished through it in hopes there was a knife. Sure enough, there was. Taking it out, he began to cut off hunks of meat, which Marty popped them into the pot he'd used last night. After a good portion of the pig was cut up, he poured some water in the container of meat and put it by the fire.

"Jesus Merlin, we all thought you had shot yourself!" Eli said. He received cold looks from Gavin and Lance for his statement but he just shrugged his shoulders in response to them. Everyone had been thinking that, he had just said it so what was the problem!

Marty glared at Eli. "If I wanted to kill myself this morning, I would've just let myself drown in the lake," he snapped. Martin was a bit wary of the knights in this time. Lee and Eli didn't particularly seem to like him. Half the time Gavin seemed to want to arrest him and Percy seemed indifferent.

Checking on the meat, he was pleased to see it was mostly done. However, he did want to get a move on. Holding his hand over the pot, he whispered a spell. With his eyes flashing gold, he finished cooking the meal. Yes, he realized he just revealed his magic to the rest of the group, but Marty didn't really care.

Percy, Leo and Eli looked at each other, all three seeming to be very shocked at what they had just seen.

"You have magic then." Percy said; it wasn't a question.

Marty didn't even look up as he placed the food on to several plates that had been in Bradley's backpack. To be honest, the young warlock found it weird just what types of odds and ends he found in the pack! Besides the stuff they had packed in the cabin he found a box of bullets, some batteries, an unopened pack of paper plates and a half used box of plastic forks and knives.

"I was born with it." Marty finally replied.

"Did Bradley go with you?" Lance asked, taking a glance out of the cave for a moment, half expecting Bradley to come walking in. When he had woken up he had noticed that the blonde wasn't there so he had thought that perhaps he and Marty would be together but now that Marty was back and Bradley wasn't, Lance was becoming slightly concerned.

"Why would he? I took a bath first. I'm kind of glad he didn't. I need my privacy sometimes," he replied as he served the men the pork and dried fruit. "And I didn't want to wake him or any of you guys."

Everyone took the offered food and sat down near the fire that was almost out. They all started to eat, no one seeming to be worried at all. They all knew that Bradley was a big boy and could take care of himself. He was probably out scouting around and would be back soon.

Lance, even though he had taken the plate of food and had taken a seat, didn't start to eat. Instead he was thinking. If Bradley was out scouting around then why didn't he take his gun with him? He had been so worried about Ana the previous night that he should have been armed if he had gone out.

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" Lance asked.

Everyone answered the same; last night, even Gavin had been the one to point out that Lance himself had been the last one to talk to the blonde.

"Look, just call his phone." Leo pointed out in between mouthfuls of food. Lance however shook his head.

"We're up in the mountains Leo; no reception." He pointed out.

"He's probably out somewhere just scouting around." Percy said, finishing up his breakfast and folding up the paper plate.

"Unarmed? Everyone knows that a cop doesn't go anywhere unarmed," Lance pointed out.

They all looked to Bradley's gun that was still lying by Marty's side. While they all were talking, Marty had been eating silently. He hadn't been paying any attention to what the Knights were saying, being too busy running over everything that had happened in his mind. He slowly blinked, hearing the last of Lance's statement.

Marty nearly choked on the food when he looked around. Bradley was not there. "We got to hurry," Martin said, finishing off his breakfast. Taking his bottle of water, he rinsed his mouth out. "Come on."

Without waiting, Merlin shouldered the two backpacks. Not wanting to carry the gun, he handed it to Lance as he passed the man. Taking out a flashlight, Marty wandered to the back of the cave. There was a wall. He was about ready to turn around, when he saw the opening – over his head.

"Okay then," whispered Marty. Turning off the flashlight, Marty started to climb up the wall with he hopes everyone else was following. He knew he needed lights, but there was no way he could climb with a flashlight in his hand.

It took only two minutes for the rest of the men to catch up to Merlin who was already climbing up towards an opening in the roof of the passage. "Merlin, wait you don't know what's up there!" Lance called out to him, but the warlock didn't listen. Instead he kept on climbing. He was worried about his friend; this much was true but he was also worried about Morgana and the device.

He didn't want something to happen to it, he didn't want Arthur to injure Morgana and he didn't want Morgana to kill her own brother.

"No, but there is no other way to get out of here, so what other choice do we have?" he asked without looking behind him. He did not want to fall. "This is not the first time I've faced the unknown, Lancelot. We have to do this whether we want to or not."

Something crawled over Merlin's hand. He yelped and fought the urge to pull away. Instead, he did the next best thing. Whispering under his breath, his eyes flashed and right next to him appeared a blue orb. This blue, lighted orb, showed him and the others hundreds of spiders. They were fleeing from the light.

"Be careful," he called. "And watch out!"

Lancelot shook his head, but then started to climb. Percival was next followed by Elyan, Gwaine and Leon. None of them were big fans of spiders, but they were not going to let themselves be scared off by them either.

Percival was about three feet behind Lancelot when he yelped. A spider had literally jumped off of the wall and had landed on his back.

"Get it off, get it off!" He yelped. Because of the sheer size of the spider Elyan took out his gun took careful aim and fired, hitting the spider and causing it to fall off. He hadn't been worried about accidently hitting Percival because the spider had been the size of a turkey.

All of the Knights were sweaty and breathing hard, partly from the workout they had just had and partly from the news their friend had just told them. They had figured out that he had had magic; the little display not five minutes ago and then that bit with the breakfast had convinced them of that, but a Dragonlord?

"I inherited the title like a Prince inherits the crown," he continued trying to explain it in terms they would understand. "I didn't know my father in our past. I did meet him though, when we went to get Balinor. When he died protecting Arthur and me, his powers passed to me. But, the dragon wasn't killed. I told him to leave and not attack Camelot ever again.

They all looked at each other and then back to Merlin who was still playing with the blade of wet grass. The law was clear in matters such as this but the younger man had saved their lives down in the cave…didn't that count for something?

"I think we can all agree not to tell the King." Leon finally said, receiving wordless nods from all of the others.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Some muttering and cursing coming from the hole they had just climbed out of causing all of the Knights to turn around. The ones that were armed drew their weapons and held them at the ready, wondering who it was that was invading their little party. Not two minutes later they were all surprised to see Gaius, Hunith and Uther himself climbing up out of the hole.

Merlin stared at the three people in front of him and the knights. "Oh, god," he whispered to himself, spying his mother. He wasn't prepared to his see his mother or deal with her. Did she even remember the past? He wasn't sure if he was happy Uther was there either. He had a feeling he'd need his magic to get them through this obstacle course, but how could he with him there? This was bad.

The old physician and Merlin's mother looked worse than the Knights did in terms of how sweaty they were, and Hunith was already cursing the climb and the dead spiders she had seen, but now that she was up and out she calmed down a little that is until all three of them spotted Merlin and the Knights.

For the briefest of moments they all stood or in Merlin's case sat there staring at one another until Leon made the first move and actually inclined his head a little in respect towards Uther.

"Sire." He said in greeting. Shortly after everyone even Merlin inclined their heads in respect, but the boy was the only one who didn't say anything.

He was hurt and confused with his mother's presence there. What the hell was she doing there? Didn't she hate him? Didn't she blame him for everything?

"We should go," Merlin said after a moment. He stood and grabbed the backpacks. Without looking behind him, the warlock set off.

With a slight groan Bradley forced himself to open his eyes and the moment he did he instantly regretted it. Sunshine nearly blinded him, forcing him to tear up and squint. His head was pounding in pain and his body ached; feeling as if a herd of wild horses had trampled over him.

"I am glad that you have woken up in time to witness this, dear brother."

Bradley blinked and then looked up. It was only then that he realized several things. One, he was no longer in a cave but in the forest; dead, drying leaves everywhere and green trees surrounding them on all sides. Two, he was bound hand and foot with simple chains that only tightened every time he moved them. Three, there right beside Morgana was a stone and sticking straight up out of the stone was a beautiful sword. It was the device that Merlin's father had built, it had to be it!

"Morgana…!" Bradley breathed, staring at the sword in the stone for a few moments, "How did I get here?"

Morgana smirked at the question. "I never knew you sleepwalked. It made it only too easy to capture you. I have brought you here dear brother so you can witness the destruction of this simple device and along with it go your hopes and dreams of ever ruling Camelot."

"If you destroy the device then you'll be stuck here as well!" Bradley shot back. He watched his sister start to laugh a little at his statement. What was so funny? The device was the only way to return home!

"You really have no idea how powerful I am, Arthur Pendragon. It is only too easy for me to return to Camelot without the aid of the device. Whereas, you and everyone else, will be trapped here. That was my plan in the beginning, but I have since refined it."

"You and all of your friends will witness the destruction of the device, and then I will kill you all, and then I will rule all of Camelot."

Bradley eyed the blood red stone that seemed to glow around his sister's neck. He didn't know what it was but he felt that she needed to take it off; that it was somehow controlling her feelings and anger. Perhaps she was only acting the way she was because of the stone.

Morgana noticed that Bradley looked at her necklace. She touched the stone and laughed a little. "It's a pretty thing, isn't it? I think it's fabulous. I feel so rejuvenated with wearing it. It's amazing how the proper adornment can make all the difference. I think it's given me so much more self-confidence," she purred.

The woman stepped forward. She ran a finger over her brother's cheek. "It's a shame it all had to come to this, dear brother, but I know you. You are our father's son. You act so innocent, but I have seen what you do to my kind. And you are so ruthless and cold. I don't know how Merlin stood you for all of these years. I know you disgust me," Morgana remarked.

"Ruthless and cold?" Bradley asked, "How am I ruthless and cold? I want peace between everyone. Magic is not some absolute terror unless it's wielded by the wrong person, like you, and Merlin? He stands by me because he is much more than just my manservant! He is my friend; he is like my brother! Of course I know you wouldn't understand that."

Morgana laughed and shook her head. "You killed the druids! You killed men and women and children! I watched it with my very eyes," she spat. "I watched as you rounded up others and brought them to face our father. You held no unease in your eyes as you did it, too. You_ accepted_ your deeds and lost naught a lick of sleep."

"I was a young man back then, Morgana! I didn't realize the impact of the choices I made. I only wanted to make father proud, to-to continue his work! All of those children that died…I wanted to stop it! I told my men to spare the woman and children, but they were overzealous!" Bradley said.

Morgana rolled her eyes as she sat down in front of her brother. "It was only a few months ago dear brother. People don't change that quickly," she replied, leaning forward.

Bradley looked confused. A few months?! Morgana must have been speaking about another time, but the only attack of the Druids that he remembered was the one that happened when he had been seventeen. It was one of his first command opportunities and it had gone very wrong when his men started killing the women and children.

"You don't remember, do you? Oh, how I wish you did! That's the problem with this spell my sister cast, it makes you forget. It's a shame really," sighed the sorceress. "Don't you remember six months before I went _missing_ when I went to the druids? Uther thought they had kidnapped me. You and your men came to get me thinking I needed saving! Ha, hardly. You and your men and even your dear _Merlin_ killed most of them without a second thought to the situation or what you were doing."

"Only because we were worried about you! The Druids could have done anything to you and you were naïve enough to think that they wouldn't! They…they were the enemy, I was only doing it for our father!" Bradley said, not really remembering the incident at all.

"I went on my own accord, although Merlin _did _suggest I'd give them a visit," she replied. "They helped me! When I was injured, they healed me. You were their enemy that time, not the other way around. The druids are a peaceful people. They just don't follow our father's beliefs."

Morgana snorted when Bradley had said he wanted to make Uther proud. "Oh, please, that is a weak excuse if I've ever heard one," spat the woman. "You know that death is permanent. Besides, how many times did you go against your father's wishes even though you knew it would infuriate him and make him ashamed?"

"I only did that when I felt he was wrong. Like the time Merlin was poisoned; he drank from that goblet knowing full well what would happen. He saved my life and father was just going to leave him to die. I could not let that happen to him." Bradley declared.

"And you didn't think killing innocent people was wrong? The druids did nothing erroneous and yet you and your father treat them like vermin who should be exterminated," she asked.

"You forget Morgana; he's your father too, no matter how much you may want to deny it. You know better than anyone what we were brought up to believe; magic is evil and those who practice it should be eradicated. You also seem to forget that I did not kill every single Druid I came across. What about the boy, Mordred? I was the one to help him get out of Camelot; I was the one to take him back to his people! Sure, Merlin helped a little but…" Bradley said but he was interrupted by his sister.

"Oh, you really underestimate your little friend, _Merlin_ don't you? He's a killer and a hypocrite. He's abandoned his own kind," she replied. "Do you know how many times he's killed in the supposed name of Camelot? I sure don't, but I have a feeling it's many more then we could ever imagine. Think of all the lies he's told us all. Think of all the weird deaths and things that have happened in his presence."

Bradley shook his head, not believing Morgana at all. "Whatever Merlin has done he has done in order to save lives! He has saved not only my life, but yours and those of Camelot's people on many occasions!"

"You're forgetting something, he also took my life without my permission," she retorted. "What he does is for his own self-gain. Perhaps he tells himself that he does it to help people and perhaps he even believes it, but it's only for his gain. He acts for his own self-centered wants and needs."

"Self-centered wants? Is that what you think he's doing Morgana? Everything he has done has been for someone else. Never once as he ever asked for anything for himself! Putting that poison in the water was one of the hardest things he has ever done. He didn't want to do it; he's still broken up about it, but he did it to save everyone else! You don't get it do you? You were the source of the enchantment that was making everyone else fall asleep! If Merlin hadn't have killed you then everyone else would have died."

"A blind man could see what he's doing is all for himself," clucked Morgana. "His self-sacrificing persona is just an act. Think of all the lies he's made up to cover his deeds. Maybe he's doing it just to try to get magic back in the city. Maybe that's been his ploy all these years. I've seen things. I've seen what Merlin's done. I've discredited them to sunlight. But, I've seen his eyes change – flash – and then men just fall from their horses after a strap breaks or whatnot. I've seen him leave in the middle of the night for no reason. Planning and scheming!"

She shook her head. "He claims he didn't want to and that he's still broken up. He claims he has no choices, but in reality he does, but he just acts and then lies," Morgana said.

"He didn't want to do it Morgana. I know that not a day goes by when he doesn't regret his decision. You have not been around him these past few months. I have! I've had to witness his drug use, his attempted suicide…I have seen him hit rock bottom. What he did to you is only a small part of the hurt and despair that he constantly feels," Bradley said.

"I don't believe that. And the more you say it to me, the less you sound like you believe it," she retorts. "He had choices and now he has to live with them. What do you think of this Merlin? How do you feel about him? It's pathetic and so self-indulgent and selfish. Would he be hurting himself if he _really_ cared about you anyone else he claimed to feel close to?"

Bradley didn't answer at first. Everything Morgana said even though he knew in his heart that it was wrong, it sounded _right_ in his ears. Merlin had had a rough time; everyone knew that, but what Morgana said about Merlin hurting himself if he really cared about anyone else stuck with the Prince.

"Merlin…is a good man; he has just made some bad choices." Bradley said; the sentence sounding wrong even to his ears.

Morgana didn't look convinced at all. She reached in to her pocket and pulled out three things; a small pistol, a dagger and a capped syringe filled with a pale green substance. She seemed to be thinking quite hard; a devious look on her face.

"How should I kill you?" she murmured to herself. She picked up the shiny knife, looking it over. "The knife is simple; sharp, insuring that you will go through great pain and discomfort before I end your miserable life."

"Morgana…" Bradley muttered but he was instantly cut off with a "Shut up!" Morgana's eyes glowed for a moment and then Bradley felt his back arch of its own accord. He yelped and slumped over on to his side, face etched in pain.

Morgana smiled evilly for a moment and then put the knife down only to pick up the gun. "Pistols are such simplistic yet powerful devices. Don't you think? Depending on where it is aimed it can injure or kill."

Acting as if she didn't have a care in the world she pointed the pistol at the ground right beside Bradley's face and fired. Dirt sprayed up hitting Brad in the face causing him to flinch a little. Smirking Morgana put the pistol back down and picked up the syringe. "My own little cocktail," she said, "Guarantees a painful and slow death."

Now Morgana was just sounding sadistic; sounding more and more as if she just wanted revenge on all of those that either hurt her, didn't share her beliefs, or who could stop her from taking the throne. She drummed her fingers along her knee for a few seconds before she came to a decision.

Rising up she walked the few paces over to her brother and then knelt down right next to him.

"Merlin and the others, they will come, but they will arrive too late. Merlin's father has set up quite a few defenses that will slow them down. Spiders, Serkets…only Merlin's magic will be able to get them through…"

Bradley watched as his sister took off the protective cap over the needle; the bloodstone around her neck glowing even brighter it seemed. Balinor had set up a defensive network to protect the device and Morgana had figured out how to get through. Merlin and the others would have to do the same or else fight their way through, and if there were Serkets and spiders who knew what else would be awaiting them?

He hissed a little as Morgana snaked out a hand and grasped the back of his head, yanking back on his hair. He felt a sharp sting on the side of his neck and the slow burn of something being pumped in to his body. A moment later it was over and his head was released. Morgana recapped the needle and shoved it back in to her pocket, a smile clear on her face.

She had another needle in her pocket as well which was intended for Merlin. He had killed her, but her sister had managed to save her. The warlock was going to receive no such help. Morgana knew she was going to enjoy watching him and her brother die and then she would be free to take the throne of Camelot; Uther would be no problem, another easy death. She wasn't worried about him.


	52. Chapter 51: flashback

Merlin still felt drained from all his magic use. He was exhausted and just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. But, he couldn't even though sleep would fix two problems (his exhaustion and facing his mother). So, he went with the next best thing, he sat back down under the tree and played with the foliage around him.

Even though he wasn't looking up, he could tell his so-called mother tried to approach him. He also could see her shadow on the grass. Every half-step she took, he drew into himself. His back arched and his shoulder's dipped forward. Merlin was afraid of being yelled at or slapped or something. Secretly, he was afraid she'd turn against him and shun him even more – if that was possible. The memory if being kicked from home two years ago was vibrant in his mind and as he sat there, he thought back on the moment.

_Harriett walks through the front door of her house, the mass large and powerful. She looks around at her belongings, the beautiful pictures, mirrors, statues and plants. The time and money she has taken to decorate their house, make it warm and loving. She looks down the hall, the sitting room is down there. That room, the walls made of glass so they can watch the sunset...Basil used to spend hours in there, researching or just simply enjoying his latest novel. Now, all of that is over, all the years she spent making this home warm is gone forever._

_She can hear the TV upstairs, the magnificent three story house echoes with the sound of his blasted show. She looks behind her, the two men walk in and shut the large mass to their beautiful cathedral open hallway. They are dressed in fine black suits, one wearing sunglasses and looking like an enforcer, the other holds his briefcase._

_"Gentleman."_

_"Mrs. Mysak."_

_Tom, her lawyer and his associate, Kevin follow her up the stairs. The spiral staircase feels long, her shoes click against the beautiful oak floor._

_"She will be here in five minutes Mrs. Mysak."_

_Harriet continues to walk, her head held high._

_"Yes, the front door is open so she can come in."_

_Her tasteful mature attire makes her feel only slightly in control of the situation. The Gucci feeling snug against her skin, her last armor as she knows she will be reduced to thrift store clothing soon enough. She spots him then, in their lavish home theater, lounging on the coach. His eyes look red, she wonders if he is on the heroin or coming down from his last hit. She moves to stand between him and the television._

_"Get up Martin, go to your room and put something nice on. We are to receive a guest in five minutes. I want you to show them respect."_

_Her ace in the hole is finally arriving; she will show her blasted son what he has reduced her too. Martin has never had to deal with Sterling-Bosch...she wonders how he will deal with their president._

_Marty stares at his mother. His skin feels clammy and it felt like bugs were crawling under it, but he doesn't let her know. He sneezes and wipes his nose. "Mum, do I have to," he asked, fiddling with his jean's leg. "I don't feel good. What if I'm contagious?"_

_He could tell his mother wasn't having any of it. Harriet wouldn't budge, even if he was running a 40 C (100 F) temperature. Marty sighed and pushed himself off the couch. The young man headed to the door, but stopped._

_"I know things are tight – with money I mean," he said. His voice was soft and gentle. "And, I decided not to go to school. Oxford, Yale, Brown, Harvard, Cambridge…they can all wait. They will. We don't, well we won't, have the money. I wrote them all emails last night and declined their acceptance. I know it's not much, but I felt like I should do something."_

_Her lips are tight at his words. HOW DARE HE! Her mind reels, he admitted that they could not send him there? She wants to smack him, to put him in line, instead she takes a deep breath through the nose. Her eyes flash over to his, her lips tight._

_"Of course you did."_

_She watches him retreat into his room, the realities of life hitting her. She never wanted Martin involved with her insurance affairs, she has kept their dealings from him until now...but he has cost her. He has disrespected her, and she is now paying with everything she has._

_"Dress quickly Martin, I believe she is here."_

_Marty can tell his mother s mad. He doesn't understand. He was just trying to help. He kew they couldn't afford the 50,000.00 a year Harvard or Yale wanted. There was no way. _

_He looks at his mother, longing for her acceptance. He wishes she could understand. It hadn't been easy to turn the schools down. but, the move had been one had to take - it was the mature thing to do. He also didn't want to leave his mum, even though she was indifferent towards him most of the time right now._

_"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just...I just wanted to do the right thing. I can apply again in a year or two. One of the schools told me to. They understood..."_

_Marty nodded. "Got it," he whispered. Marty looked in his closet. Nothing was really all that nice or suitable for his mother's company. Shrugging, he chose a thin knit gray sweater and a pair of clean and not stained jeans. _

_Stripping his old clothes off, he pulled on his fresh clothes on. Slipping into his grey, wool clogs, he wandered down the hall and into the entrance way. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he waited. _

_Harriet stood to attention with Tom and Kevin on either side, both men stone faced. Her expensive lawyer will get his money as well as his henchman. She looked to the side at Marty and her lip tightened at the sight of him._

_"Jeans Martin? You could wear pants for once?"_

_Her voice is low and sharp, her vocal cords protest. Her mind shifts back to years ago when she used to hug her son and he would smile at her in glee. His sharp sapphire eyes were so filled with life...with promise. He used to come home and relieve the help and just do their work because he was generous and kind. Now...now he is a spoiled brat who will get his dues._

_The door creeks as it slowly opens, the smile of the woman is dark and powerful as Harriet steps up to her._

_"Ana Stidolph, welcome to my home."_

_Ana walks forward and shakes Harriets hand, the woman turns slightly towards Marty and motions for him to walk forward._

_"Ana, this is my son Martin Mysak. I want you to take care of the details of this affair. We can go over the contracts in the reading room. Martin, this is Ana Stidolph, she is the President of Investigations with Sterling-Bosch. They have been keeping our affairs in order for years and as you know your father had a very close relationship with Mr. Bosch himself. Please."_

_Ana moves forward, her hand coming out. Her smirk is small, her eyes are powerful._

_"Martin Mysak, it is a pleasure to meet you."_

_Marty shook his head. "None of my trousers fit me. They're too big and messy. At least these fit me. I found ones without paint stains at least," he whispered. He hadn't been eating much. He hadn't been hungry. So most of his clothes didn't fit. "I'm sorry."_

_When told to step forward, he did. "Hullo. You can call me Marty if you want," he muttered. He didn't have the strength or energy to say much more. Marty figured this was depression. He just wanted to go curl up on the couch and go to sleep._

_Marty takes her hand. "Nice to meet you," said the man. He studied her. She would be interesting to draw. Maybe sometime he could ask her._

_He goes over to his mum. "Mum, this won't take long, will it? I'm really not feeling good," he whispered in her ear. His brow is furrowed. He looks concerned about this. His stomach hurt badly, his right side hurt, and he felt like he could throw up._

_"Thank you, Marty. Please, call me Ana."_

_Harriet all but marched into the sitting room, her and her men on either side, a seat for Martin, a table between them and Ana situating herself on the other side._

_"Martin, you will sit and be quiet."_

_Ana eyed Merlin, she remembers when he used to be stronger, he was at least plump in Camelot. Her eyes roam over him, a small smirk coming to her features. Her eyebrow quirks as the papers fan out in front of her, the stars sing quietly, telling Ana of his troubles with drugs. Oh...whatever God she pleased tonight she should thank. She will be behind the final blow to his secured life, it is not enough, but it is a start._

_"Martin, Marty, Mysak the paper in front of you is a situation to leave the premises of 1003 Lake View Dr. London, England. With your absence Sterling-Bosch has agreed to take 5 percent off of the debt your mother owes us. The total being 1,568,236.13."_

_Ana eyes Martin as Tom gets up from his chair and moves it over to sit next to Ana._

_"Marty, this is another situation. It is the agreement about your bike. As stated in your father's will we will not touch that property if you are out in the next 24 hours. If not, it will become apart of this home and will then be subjected to repo by Sterling-Bosch and the law offices of Stevens and Keller. Your mother owes us roughly 238,000 when it comes to bills that she as acquired though your arrests and other misconducts."_

_Harriet is rigid, before a million dollars would have been nothing to this woman...now with Basil gone it is as if she has fallen into the poor house._

_"Martin, your father left us with more debt then I realized. I had managed UNTIL you decided to go on a rampage. You can keep the bloody bike, but you will get out of this house. Because of your childish, selfish, behavior Ana here has authority to take everything...EVERYTHING. You will not have the honor of seeing my home fall."_

_She gulps loudly, her lips becoming a strong line. Ana looks over at Marty, she cannot help the smirk that comes to her features, it only lasts a second, and then it disappears, her mask of sorrow replacing her evil thoughts._

_"Okay," he whispered. His tone was irritable, but he was trying to be agreeable. There didn't seem to be anything to fight about at this second. Besides, they were just exchanging names right now. Nothing big. He did keep an eye on the people and he didn't exactly trust this lady and her sorry, pasty excuses for cohorts._

_Taking weight off his right side, he followed them. There was nothing else to do. As he walked, his mind reeled. What was his mother up to? Was this yet another lame excuse to get him to go into rehab? Were these people, in fact, from a clinic, instead of an insurance agency? Marty didn't ask. He figured all would be reveal with time. Instead, he sat down in one of the chairs and then fought the urge to curl up to release the pain. When Harriet spoke, he looked over at her. Numbly, he nodded._

_He looked at the paper as he listened. "What in the bloody wank are you talking about," he asked. It didn't make sense. His father had not been a gambler and had always been careful with their funds._

_"Wait a minute, that shite amount must be wrong. You must've effing miscalculated," Marty cussed. He leaned forward as he glared at the people in front of him. "I know what I've done. I know what I haven't done. It can't add up to that amount. There must be some sort of bloody mistake in your counting!"_

_Marty was really feeling sick. His stomach was churning. His side was hurting. He felt hot. He thinks he might be having an appendicitis attack. "Mum," he whispered. His hands were shaking and he was pale. Marty looked over at his mother and silently begged her for help. He didn't think he'd get it, so he changed his tactics._

_"Are we done here," he asked, "cause I'd like to get packing if you all so effing insist. It won't take me long."_

_"Marty...you assaulted a police officer three nights ago. Do you know how much Sterling-Bosch had to pay out so he would not press charges?"_

_Ana folds her arms and suddenly a smug looks comes onto her features as Tom speaks. She is in power here, she is in control. Harriet looks towards her son, a look of disgust coming over her features._

_"Martin I told you that you had one more shot, one more chance to get this right and you blew it. You will best pack your things and never return here. This home, this place of comfort has been soiled by your misconduct, your misdeeds against the law. I am ashamed to call you my son after what you have done. Sterling-Bosch owns everything now because of your deeds. Are you happy my son? Happy to destroy this home your father and I built? He would be so ashamed of you if he could see you now."_

_Harriet makes eye contact with Ana, the women face off._

_"Mrs. Stidolph I know you men will be in here in minutes to take everything. They can start in my son's room and work their way out." She turns to Martin. "Sign the paper and get the hell out of my sight. You are no longer welcomed here."_

_"He started it," Marty growled. "If he'd just left me alone, I would've had to punch him. I was minding my own business when he started calling my mates names and me. I couldn't stand it. I'm not allowed to protect myself? What else was I supposed to do?"_

_He pushed himself up from his seat. He glared at his mother. "This place has ever been home. I always hated this dump. Do you really think I effing care," Marty asked. He grabbed the paper and signed it as quickly as he could._

_Heading upstairs, he grabbed his backpack. With much force, he threw in his black jeans, a couple sweaters (a blue one, a green one, and a red one), a few t-shirts, and undergarments (boxers and socks), as well as a drawing pad and his fine-tipped colored pen set, pastels, pencils, and drum sticks. Slipping his leather jacket on, he zipped up the backpack._

_Throwing it over his shoulder, he limped from his room. Stopping when he neared his mother, he glared at her. "Bye," Marty growled. When she didn't say anything, he left._

_Hopping onto his bike, he rode to the first place he could think of – the ER. He parked his bike the best he could. Shaking and sweaty, he went through the doors. Resting his palms on the counter, he stared at the nurse. "I need help," he said. With this words, his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out._

_Gael had just come out of the doctor's lounge. He was feeling a whole lot better after that break. Being on ones feet for twenty hours straight really takes a lot out of you. Gael was about to do his rounds when he heard his name being called from the nurses' station._

_"Doctor! We really need some help over here!"_

_Turning he saw two nurses trying to give aid to a body that was on the floor. Slipping in to doctor mode Gael raced over and dropped on to the floor next to the patient. His breath caught in his throat for a moment when he saw who it was, but that lasted only briefly. Marty didn't need to be gawked at, he needed assistance, pronto!_

_"Nurse, what are his vitals?" Gael asked as he checked Marty pupil response._

_"BP 90/60, heart rate is 70..."_

_"Get him on twelve liters of O2, get him typed and cross matched and administer 2 units of Ringers!" he ordered, standing up as the nurses lifted the younger man up and placed him on the gurney that had just been wheeled over._

_As Marty was jostled, he opened his eyes. Drawing his knees up, he screamed. "It hurts," he whispered. Hi brow was furrowed as he dazedly stared at Gael. "It really hurts."_

_Everything was swirling in front of him He felt really dizzy and weak. "I don't feel good," Marty said. "I think I'm going to be sick." Marty attempted to roll over onto his side and throw up._

_After that, he rolled back and just laid there. "I shouldn't have come. Can't pay for it," he said._

_"Nurse!" Gael called, indicating to a nurse to help him roll Marty over on to his side. Together he and the blond haired nurse rolled the sick boy over, moments later the heaving started. Thankfully there wasn't much, but still it was enough to alarm the doctor._

_"I shouldn't have come. Can't pay for it."_

_"Marty this is a charity hospital. It doesn't matter if you cannot pay for it." Gael reminded him. Smoothly they arrived in the ER, nurses and EMT's moving to get Marty situated on one of the beds while Gael kept watch._

_Marty moaned at the news. If he had been able, he would've just walked out. The young man did not want to be a charity case. But, he didn't, nor could he. He was in far too much pain. The young man would've asked for medicine to dull the agony, but he didn't think that would go off too well._

_As another doctor examined him, he tried to lie still, although he writhed in pain when the man pushed on his lower right and when the ultrasound was completed. When the man, Dr. Edward Meyers, finished his examination, he went over to Gael. "Dr. Mysak, our patient has an acute appendicitis. I recommend an appendectomy However, I am reluctant to perform the surgery. I noticed track marks that were probably three days old." _

_Acute appendicitis. That was bad and it would only get worse if nothing was done. It could potentially turn in to a life threatening matter if surgery was not performed in a timely fashion._

_"If the appendix is ruptured it needs to be removed as quickly as possible, Dr. Meyers." Gael said, even though he knew that that was obvious!_

"_From the ultrasound I just did, he does have a perforated appendix. His low grade fever and vomiting are also an indication of this diagnosis," he explained. "But, you're going to have to find a different doctor to do the surgery. He's too much of a risk." _

_Turning to Marty, Dr. Mysak leaned over his nephew and asked, "When was the last time you shot up and what did you use?"_

_Marty squirmed a little at the question. "Two or three days ago," whispered the young man. "Heroin…what else? What does it matter?"_

_That complicated matters immensely. Dr. Edward was out of the picture so there was no one to do the surgery. [i]"If no one is going to take out the appendix, I'll do it myself,"[/i] Gael told himself, even though he knew that he could get in big trouble for doing so, but at that moment he didn't care. Marty was his nephew; granted he was stupid for taking drugs but Dr. Mysak wasn't just going to stand by and let him suffer._

_"Call OR, tell them to have a room on standby." Dr. Mysak ordered the nurse that was near the phone. He didn't care if the doctor wasn't going to do the surgery; it was going to get done! "Why Marty? Why did you do it?" Gael asked._

"_Does it really matter, Gael. No one gives shite about me, so why should I give shite about myself," Marty replied with a roll of his eyes. "Everyone who really cared about my sorry, good for nothing arse is dead or doesn't want me around. You're not my father, so why should you care? You weren't even there when died and you sure didn't come to your own brother's funeral."_

_He shook his head. "Besides, a little smack in the veins opens you up, spiritually and sexually and creativity just soars. It's an eye opening, metaphysical experience," Marty said. "You wouldn't understand."_

_"I may not be your father Martin Mysak, but that doesn't mean I do not care. I wanted to be there when your father died and I wanted to be there at his funeral but I had other responsibilities; other lives on the line. Something you would have no knowledge of. You may think heroin is a gift sent from God, but everything you think it does for you, there is a price that has to be paid. You become addicted to it. It depresses you physically and mentally and in the end you only do yourself more harm than good!" Gael said._

_Marty rolled his eyes. "Just keep telling yourself that shite and you'll believe it. Over and over again – just keep telling yourself it. Maybe you already you have and you to believe it," Marty retorted._

"_You can take off for funerals. There are other godforsaken doctors in this dump who could've worked your shift," he pointed out. "You're making bloody excuses for yourself. I hate excuses."_

_He sighed and shook his head. "I know more about it then you think. I dropped from uni, not for my sake, but for my mum's. Shite, the schools that wanted me was expensive," Marty said. "Gotta look after mummy dearest when she doesn't give a flying fig about me."_

_Marty shrugged. "Do you honestly think I care? I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. I've had to do it for years anyway. I'll continue doing it until I die," he replied._

_"You may not care about yourself, young man, but that doesn't mean that others don't care! You'll be fine you say? So you think you know better than the doctors who specialize in the malady you are suffering from?! You think you'll be fine just as you think you are all alone in this world but the truth is simple - without some type of medical intervention you will die; sooner rather than later. You may not even have till the end of the week or even today! Now I know that probably doesn't scare you and you may even welcome death, but I say to you now that I am not going to tell you die...not on my watch buster!" Dr. Mysak said, furious with Marty's behavior._

_He wasn't in the mood to put up with his nephew's 'oh woe is me' behavior. He needed to see that it wouldn't get him anywhere in life, and right now, getting that through Marty's thick skull seemed pretty impossible._

_Marty could help but laugh. "Who? No one gives a rats arse about me…not my mum and not you," the man replied. "What sort of woman kicks her little boy out the house with nothing but a backpack full of clothes and a motorbike anyway?"_

"_I'll be right as rain as soon as this," Marty said, gesturing towards his side. "Is out of me. So, can we please focus on taking care of that?"_

_He shrugged. "Maybe I do and maybe I don't. I know that I know my body better than the so-called doctors. I know rehabs a waste of time. Been once. I just leaned new ways to score. It was idiotic," Marty muttered._

"_We all die, some sooner than others. Why waste it being cautious," he said. The question was rhetorical. "Gee…I don't think I'll die today, boss, at least from heroin OD-ing. Haven't had anything for two days remember? Can we just deal with the more pressing issue? My appendix?"_

_Dr. Mysak was about to say something else when he heard the nurse hang up the phone and look up at him. "Dr. Mysak," she began, "We have an OR on standby for the patient. Doctor Margrove has agreed to perform the operation."_

_Gael nodded his head at the nurse, letting her know that he had heard her. "Orderlies will be coming soon to take you to surgery so that your appendix can be removed. Once you have recovered we will be continuing this conversation. I may not be your father but I am related to you. You may think that I do not care about you or that I don't care if anything happens to you. Let me just say that you are wrong on both counts; I do care. I am also pleased that you decided to come here for aid instead of suffering in silence."_

_Marty was dimly aware of Gael talking to him, but he could hardly focus. The little bit of pain medicine they had given him was wearing off. Trying to relieve the agony, he drew his knees up a little. "Okay," he hissed through gritted teeth. _

_He rolled his eyes. "Who says I'm staying afterwards? I'm outta here as soon as the anesthesia's warn off," he warned._

"_Don't waste your time caring about me. Do you think I do? Care," he asked. "You're sadly mistaken. Caring has only led me to a shite existence. But, I'm not stupid. I know when I need a doctor."_

_"Who knows, if you hadn't of come in you probably would have been brought in later...in a body bag." Gael said._

_Marty shook his head. "You're just being dramatic. Do you think I'd let that happen?" he asked._

_Gael folded his arms, glaring down at the boy. "If you are not in your right state of mind, yes. This uncaring attitude. If you don't care then you don't care whether you live or die. The fact that you came here tells me that you do care somewhat."_

"_**Why should I having a caring attitude? No one cares about me…no one that really matters," he snapped. "And don't tell me you care. You feel you have to or feel obligated to. But, in the end of the day, you're not my father. You never were and you never will be." **_

_**He shrugged a little and grimaced at the pain in his abdomen. "I care about getting out of pain," Marty replied. "That's it." **_

_Within two minutes two orderlies came in to the room and looked to Gael who simply nodded his head to them, signaling that they could wheel his nephew out of the room. When Marty was gone from the exam room, Gael simply shook his head. It was clear that Marty needed more than surgery; he needed help and the doctor didn't know how to give it to him._

_**After an hour in surgery and another hour in recovery, Marty was wheeled back to his room. The surgeon stuck with the kid until he was certain the boy was stable enough. Stripping off his gloves from examining Marty after being moved, he walked into the hall. There, he saw Gael. **_

"_**Dr. Mysak, Martin made it through the surgery. He lost a little blood, but otherwise he's just fine," said the man. "He should be able to go home the day after next." Nodding to the older man, the surgeon heads down the hallway.**_

_**Meanwhile, Marty woke feeling groggy. Shaking his head, he carefully put his feet on the ground. He found himself a little tender, but otherwise all right. Taking the monitors and IV out, Marty dressed and headed into the hallway. **_

"_**I want to check out….against doctor's orders," he said. Marty glared at the nurse as if to say don't try me. He smiled at the woman helping him as he signed the discharge papers. Then, he headed outside. Finding his bike, he hopped on and rode off. **_

_Gael sighed and rubbed his face as he made his way down the hall. He had just finished his rounds and his shift had ended, but still he wanted to check up on Marty. The surgery had gone smoothly with no complications; a fact that made the doctor very happy. With all of the drugs the lad had done; even though they weren't in his system he had been worried about how Marty's body could have reacted, but thankfully nothing had gone wrong._

_He stifled a yawn and then pushed open the door of the room that had been assigned to his nephew. Stepping in to the room he abruptly stopped, staring at the bed in horror and confusion. The blanket was tossed aside, the sheets soaked with the IV fluid; the needle and the connecting tube lying on the bed. The small closet on the other side of the room was opened and a bag and hanger were lying on the floor._

_Inspecting the closet Gael found that Marty's stuff was gone. The doctor quickly walked out of the room and went to the nurses' station, checking through records for the past few hours. After only ten minutes of searching he came across the paper that said Marty had checked himself out of the hospital. Gael sighed in exasperation. His nephew was gone and there was no telling where he went._


	53. Chapter 52: Poisons Run Deep

Lancelot sat down beside Merlin watching the boy play with the grass, the dirt, the twigs…anything really to keep his attention and his gaze away from Hunith. She had tried to come over and talk to him; apologize for her behavior, but just as Lancelot had suspected, Merlin had shied away from her acting as if she was going to physically slap him or something. After a bit he had chased her off saying that her son wasn't ready to talk to her yet and to just let him be. Hunith hadn't wanted to, but she did back off.

"I can't deal with her being here," he whispered to Lancelot, half-aware that everyone else was talking about the situation. "She's a trigger for me. I should be focused on what we're doing now, but all I can think of is getting hit. How am I going to do this?"

"Shut away your emotions Merlin, don't let them affect you. Compartmentalize your feelings. Your mother hurt you; ignore that, ignore the thoughts that go with that. I know it's going to be hard, but you must try. Before this is over I have a feeling that we are all going to need you at your best. I hate to say it, but you honestly are our only hope of defeating Morgana and getting to the device. We will not be able to do it without you," Lancelot replied.

Merlin sighed as he stopped fiddling with the grass and twigs. Instead, he rubbed his eyes. "I'm trying," the warlock admitted after a few minutes. "But, it's hard. It's more than feelings, Lancelot. It's more than emotions. It's an ache in the stomach that gnaws to your very core. It's always there, but sometimes it's worse. Some things make it worse. The only fix is getting a fix. It's the only way to make it go away."

He nodded. "I know. I don't know how I'm going to do it. Not just from wanting to shoot up, but what if I need to use magic? Uther's here! How am I going to hide my tricks from him?" he asked.

This all felt like déjà vu. How many times had it been that he needed to be in his tip top form? How many times had his magic been their only savior? Merlin had lost track over the years. "I hope my magic will keep working properly. I don't know what it's going to do in this world. It feels different," he whispered.

Lancelot didn't want to put any more of a burden on his friend's shoulders but the warlock had to understand that they really stood no chance of defeating Morgana without him. She had magic; she could easily take them down before they could even get a shot off and really there was no way the King would allow her to be hurt without killing the person responsible for doing so. However if what Lancelot thought had happened to Arthur had in fact actually happened then they were going to need Merlin and his magic.

"It probably feels weird because none of us truly belong here; we were never supposed to be here." Lancelot offered.

Merlin nodded. "Probably," he agreed. "Or maybe it's because magic just doesn't belong here or maybe it's both."

Everyone else was talking softly amongst themselves. Uther and Gaius had explained how they had ended up there; the strange feelings and memories leading them towards the cave, the voices they had heard up top and then the dead spider bodies. It was all fantastical and slightly unbelievable how everyone seemed to be drawn together in their search for this device.

Uther seemed quite concerned that Arthur was missing and that Morgana seemed to be a part of the problem. He didn't believe that she was _the_ cause of the problem; he thought he knew her and so he truly believed that his own daughter could never be that cruel. Everyone said nothing about Merlin's magic simply because the King had his memories back and would try to kill the warlock if the fact that he had magic was blurted out.

It was soon decided that they should keep moving. Going back could draw out more spiders so it was safer to keep moving, or so everyone thought. They hiked for roughly an hour, never stopping until they came to a small stream where they all paused so that Hunith and Gaius who didn't have any water could get some and rest for a moment.

Merlin stood off to the side looking very uneasy; his face covered in sweat and small specks of dirt. He felt as if he was being watched; a very uncomfortable feeling to say the least. Every time he looked behind him or up ahead he half expected to see something or someone dark and terrible aiming to hurt him but every time he looked there was nothing.

He chewed on his thumbnail as he settled his gaze on his mother. Why was she here? Why did she have to get her memories back? He almost wished she hadn't so she wouldn't be returning. Then, he felt guilty.

Merlin didn't know how long it would take to get to the machine and he didn't like that fact. It made him even more nervous. The warlock was tiring – all the magic and running about was affecting him. He still wasn't fully recovered from the stroke or surgery. Merlin was tired and he had a headache forming.

Figuring a bit of water would do him good; Merlin pulled his water bottle out. Unscrewing the lid, Merlin held it up to his lips, but before he could take a sip, his grasp gave out and he dropped the bottle in full view of his mother. Annoyed he stooped to grab it but lost his footing when he stooped down too quickly. He fell on his backside; his back slamming against a part of a rock that made up the rock wall that ran down the right side of the trail.

Cursing to himself, Merlin grabbed his water bottle and climbed back to his feet. He ignored the look of pity that was on his mother's face, not believing it to be true. Raising the water bottle to his lips he was about to take a sip when he heard Hunith gasp in fright. "Merlin!" she called out. "Get away from there!"

He chose to ignore her and instead took a sip from his water bottle, but when the Knights all withdrew their weapons and pointed them in his direction, he paused. Slowly, he turned his head and glanced behind him, nearly dropping the bottle in surprise when right behind him he saw one large Serket, stinger poised and dripping with venom. The crackling of leaves all around the area signaled the arrival of even more Serket's just as big as the first. They were surrounded.

Merlin knew he couldn't move, yet. There were too many surrounding him. _Where's that dragon when you need him_, thought the warlock.

He held out his hand. As he did, he prayed Uther did not see what he was doing. Whispering spell after spell, he shoved them back or dropped branches on them or rolling rocks on the giant bugs. As he heard gunshots, he took off the backpacks. In each hand, he held them and swung at the monsters. Those bags were surprisingly good weapons.

The insects were advancing towards the rest of the group. This allowed for Merlin to step forward so he could protect the others. Focused on the serkets, he didn't see the root. With his foot caught, he fell and hit his head.

Yelping, the man held his temples. Seeing stars and feeling dizzy, he didn't try to move. Instead, he stared at an approaching bug. Merlin opened his mouth to whisper a spell, but he couldn't seem to think of any.

Gwaine had been taking cover, firing at the Serket's he saw. Everything had gone to hell in a hand basket so fast that Uther hadn't seen Merlin's magic; he had been too busy trying to find some way through the creatures that the boy was the last thing on his mind. Hearing a yelp Gwaine looked to his right just in time to see Merlin on the ground; a Serket approaching him.

"Merlin!" he yelled, jumping up and running over to the younger man. He fired at the beast approaching the warlock, causing it to move back a few paces. Arriving at Merlin's side a moment later, Gwaine had just grabbed on to his shirt when he stiffened. His whole body went cold and he felt himself grow pale; moments later a burning pain raced its way down his body. He fell forward barely managing to catch himself with his hands.

The Serket had stung him. That was the only thought that raced through his mind. As his heart pounded in his chest he barely even heard Merlin murmur a spell that caused a tree limb to drop on the beast, killing it instantly.

Merlin's eyes went wide as he felt panic grip his chest. He scrambled up and wrapping his arms around the man's torso, he pulled him off the side.

"I'll fix this," he promised quietly. Looking to the group, he shouted. "Man down!"

He charged forward. His eyes were a constant golden hue. The bugs were thrown back. Those that weren't killed, scuttled away. He should be happy that they were gone, but he was too focused on taking care of Gwaine to care about anything else.

His father might've set up traps that were deadly. However, Merlin knew his father had not been heartless. There had to be an antidote. Going over to where the beasts had come out, he looked for anything that could be of help.

In the walls of the maze he saw a little shelf. Sitting on the shelf was two goblets filled with liquid. On the glasses the words, _One holds the cure whist the other holds nothing_, etched in the pewter.

Grabbing the two goblets, he went back to Gwaine. By this time the Serkets were either dead or run off and the rest of the group were kneeling down beside Gwaine who was leaning up against the stone. Gaius was checking Gwaine over; noting his rapidly weakening pulse and cold, clammy skin. The brunette was still alive and conscious but it was clear that without an antidote he wasn't going to stay that way for long.

Knowing there was little time to have Gwaine down both goblets, Merlin poured the liquid from one into the other and pressed the cup to Gwaine's lips.

"Drink," he instructed, holding the knight's head with his hand so Gwaine could swallow a little easier. "Come one, Gwaine. Drink."

The Knight blinked, having trouble focusing on everything that was happening around him. He felt something cool and wet hit his lips and a drop or two of whatever it was trickle in to his mouth, but he couldn't understand what was expected of him.

"Gwaine, come on," snapped Merlin. He was not going to let this man die. He'd lost too many souls in his life; he wasn't about to lose another.

Realizing that being irritable wouldn't solve anything, he took a different approach. "Come on, mate, you can do it! The gods know you can drink us all under a table. This is just one goblet. It's a few mouthfuls. You can do this. Drink!"

He heard the command to drink, but the term seemed so foreign to him. Gwaine knew he should understand what it meant, but he didn't. All he knew was that he was tired, cold, and wanted to sleep. He immediately thought of his daffodil; his beautiful fiancé Morgan. He shouldn't have left her; shouldn't have come…

Gaius watched with somewhat baited breath as Merlin held the goblet to Gwaine's lips and instructed him to drink. When the Knight didn't, the aged physician immediately placed two fingers against his carotid artery. He was shocked, but he didn't let on that he felt absolutely nothing; no pulse whatsoever.

"Merlin," he began making sure to keep the tone in his voice even, "If that is an antidote to the poison you must pour it down his throat _now_." He left out the 'otherwise' believing that the young man already knew what the otherwise would be.

Hearing his name, Merlin turned and looked at Gaius It was the first time Gaius had said his actual name in a long time. It sounded weird coming from hi. Gaius's voice also sounded weird. He was used to him snapping at him or being short and abrupt in this world.

"It is," he whispered. Merlin looked over at Gwaine. He was too pale and too still. Merlin didn't like it, but he couldn't seem to move. Instead, Merlin just stared at Gwaine with wide, frightened eyes.

Catching the look Gaius had given Merlin, Lancelot looked at the physician. "What's wrong Gaius? What aren't you telling us?" he asked.

The physician sighed and then looked up at Lancelot. "Right now, for all intents and purposes Gwaine is dead," He began, holding up a hand when he heard the shocked gasps. "The next two minutes are critical. There is a chance he can still be brought back, now Merlin, for God sake, boy, pour that down his throat!"

_Dead_ – the word echoed in his mind over and over. Gwaine was dead and it was his fault. He shouldn't have tripped. If he hadn't, Gwaine wouldn't be dead.

Hearing Gaius shout at hi, Merlin jumped. The tone had snapped him out of his stupor. Nodding, he tilted the goblet back and let the liquid pour down Gwaine's throat. He rubbed Gwaine's neck to help it go down. When that was done, the warlock sat the goblet next to him and then he waited.

Arthur felt sick. He was sweating, shaking profusely and every now and again he would get agonizing muscle cramps that left him unable to move at all until the muscles relaxed. After giving him whatever was in that syringe, Morgana had left him alone for the most part, seeming to focus her attention on the device.

At first he didn't know why she was waiting to destroy the time machine, but then a thought occurred to him. Maybe he was not the only one Morgana wanted to have watch the destruction of the machine. Maybe she wanted Merlin and the others to watch her too; it was the only explanation and if that was the case then there was still a chance that she could be stopped.

For the better part of an hour he had just lain against a rock, suffering in silence as he watched Morgana cast a few spells around the immediate area. He didn't have a clue why she was doing that and she wouldn't tell him why either. Arthur grimaced when another wave of muscle cramps hit him. The pain was great, feeling as if he was being stabbed all over but when they abated he was able to take a breath.

"Besides the obvious reason; you wanting Camelot's throne, why are you doing this?" Arthur asked.

Morgana turned to her brother. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. "What do you think," was her response. "I want to avenge my people. I want to get magic where it belongs and I can't with you all alive. Moreover, I want revenge."

"When's it going to be enough Morgana? You say you want to avenge your people but in reality you are no different than my father and I; trying to take lives in the name of your beliefs, saying it's all for your people. You are no different." Arthur said.

Morgana shook her head. "You attacked first, not me," she replied with a shrug of her shoulder. "I am just protecting myself and others. It seems only fair."

"And what about in this instance? We did nothing to you and yet you and your sister used your magic to attack us! What you did wasn't for protection. It was a blatant attack. If seeing us dead is what you want then why not do it already? You had plenty of opportunities to do it even before we got our memories back." Arthur muttered. He paused, turning his head away as he started to cough. His chest was beginning to feel a little heavy, reminding him of that time not too long ago when his sister had tried chocking him; back in the cabin. Thankfully, Merlin had been there and had used his magic to shove her away, but Merlin wasn't there it was just brother and sister.

"Things didn't quite go to plan. You see, Morgause and I were never to come here. It was only you and the knights and Merlin. The spell misfired and was more powerful than Morgause predicted. You all were never supposed to remember or return to Camelot. I think it's more than generous of us. We were going to let you live," she replied.

She shook her head when Arthur started to cough. "You ought to spare your breath and rest. It's only going to get harder and harder…"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Morgana smirk, obviously enjoying watching him suffer. Given how kind and compassionate she was as a child, Arthur was still having trouble believing she had changed so much that she didn't even care anymore.

After two minutes he managed to stop coughing. He felt tired and he was breathing hard. "What the hell was in that syringe?" he muttered, shivering a little even though he was still sweating.

Morgana shrugged and then rattled off the list of drugs that were in it; most of which went over the Prince's head except for one; Wild Hemlock. She had put wild hemlock in there…

"I want you _both_ to suffer as I suffered; feel what I felt as I was slowly suffocated by the one person I thought was my friend," Morgana muttered evilly. So that was why his chest felt heavy and he was starting to have trouble breathing. Arthur shook his head a little; he should have known his sister would have tried something like that.


	54. Chapter 53: Emotional Ride

Gaius focused on Gwaine as soon as Merlin had forced the liquid from the goblet past the man's lips. He waited a few seconds and then checked for a pulse again as well as leaning down and putting an ear to the Knight's chest to see if he could hear a heartbeat. Shaking his head in a negative manner the physician looked to Lancelot. "Help me lay him down." He instructed.

Merlin's eyes closed for a moment when he saw Gaius shake his head. He had failed. He hadn't been able to save Gwaine. It was all his fault – the serkets release, Gwaine getting attacked, him not getting the antidote down him in time. Pushing himself up, he walked away from the group.

Moving quickly Lancelot grasped Gwaine's shoulders and gently lowered the man on to his back while Gaius ripped open the Knight's shirt exposing his muscular yet unmoving chest. Placing his right hand over his left Gaius started CPR, having Lancelot give Gwaine two breaths of air when he instructed him to.

"Come on Gwaine…" Lancelot muttered when nothing happened. Every moment that passed, Lancelot expected Gwaine to start breathing again but when ten minutes passed by and nothing happened he began to fear the worst; that Gwaine wasn't coming back to them.

He swallowed hard, about to reach out and tell Gaius to stop the CPR when Gwaine's body visibly stiffened and he let out a harsh gasp for air and then started coughing. "That's it, keep breathing," Gaius said in a soothing voice as he rolled the Knight on to his side to help him to breathe better.

Merlin had turned his back on the group. He then just walked off. Before he went down the hill that was the roof of the cave, he looked at his mother. He couldn't help it. Even though she had turned her back on him and treated him with such vileness and contempt, Merlin still wanted her comfort.

He figured he should not have left, but he did not care. Merlin hadn't wanted to watch the CPR and see that it that it did not work. Because he turned away and then strode off, he didn't know that Gwaine woke.

Sitting on a boulder, he rested his head in his hands and began to weep. Soon his hands were wet and slickly from tears.

Hunith had seen her son walk off; seen the look of despair on his face, so she had followed him from a distance. She saw him sit on a boulder and put his face in his hands; she heard him weep and it broke her heart.

Slowly she made her way over to her son. She wanted to comfort him, but had a feeling that he wouldn't let her, given the way she had treated him before.

"Merlin," she said in a gentle tone of voice, "It's going to be alright. You don't need to cry." Reaching out, she gently embraced her son, not knowing if he would pull away or not.

Unaware that his mother was who hugged him, Merlin stiffened. It was out of instinct than anything else. He was so used to getting attacked back in his world and so he was always prepared to fight. With his fingers pressed to his eyes and the sobs, he hadn't seen or heard her approach, but when he peeked between his fingers, he relaxed a little.

"No, it's not mother," he whispered. "How can it? I can't do anything right. I can't even succeed in suicide and now everyone's either afraid of me or for me. Everything that I come in contact with is destroyed or hurt – dad, Freya, Will, Gwaine…"

As his left hand started shaking, he lowered it and balled it into a fist. He also lowered his right hand, but he just rested it uselessly in his lap. "If I hadn't dropped my water bottle and then fell, the serkets wouldn't have attacked. Then, if I hadn't fallen a second time…Gwaine wouldn't be…" Merlin said, gesturing over to where the others were.

"Mum, I'm so tired. I don't think I can do this anymore," he whispered. "My recovery is nonexistent. I had a stroke, mum! I'm 20 and I had a bloody stroke. I-I can't do anything. I get tired. I drop things and fall. And I keep getting headaches."

Hunith nodded her head in understanding, even though she really didn't know what her son was going through. She believed that a lot of what he went through was her fault. She had chased him away; more or less blamed him for Balinor's death; and for what? It didn't bring her husband back, it only tore the family apart even more. Now, there they were; Merlin a drug addict, who had a stroke at the tender age of 20, and who sounded like he just wanted to die, and Hunith; a mother who had lost her way and didn't even realize she had.

"I know I shouldn't have used drugs. I don't even know why I started. Something to do, I guess. Maybe, it was something to make me feel better. Maybe I was using it as a creative outlet. I don't know," Merlin uttered. His voice was thick from crying. "The stroke wasn't from drugs though, mum. It just…happened. I fell and hit my head too many times. The events happened too close together. But, I was saving someone one of the times. Doesn't seem fair."

Tenderly she rubbed her son's back, trying to offer some soothing comfort to him. She was glad that he didn't pull away from her but was also surprised by it too. "Gwaine is going to be okay honey," she said, "He's alive. Do you honestly think it would have been better if you were the one that had been hit? Merlin, sweetie if that had happened, none of us would have found the goblet as fast as you did. We would have lost you," Hunith said.

Merlin looked at Hunith and then at the ground. "Good," he said. His voice was flat and filled with weariness. After a moment he shrugged and decided to reply to his mother's question.

"I don't know. I think it would've been better if I hadn't been so clumsy," He frowned. "But, maybe it would've been better. You all can live without me…especially while I'm like this."

Merlin pushed himself away from his mother and stood. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared at her. "I don't know if I can do this! I don't know if I can get through this," he admitted. "I don't know if I can ever be around you. I don't want to be, mum. You hurt me. I know I hurt you and I did really stupid things."

"I don't know if I can face you once we get to Camelot. I don't think I can. Every time I see you or Morgana, it just gets worse. You're a trigger for me and in our present, where Arthur's a Prince and I'm a servant, there is going to be no helping me or a way to relieve this ache of addiction."

"So what do you want to do then son? Just give up? You have gone through so much and I know you need to rest, but just giving up is not going to solve your problems. You need to step back and examine yourself, Merlin, and then if you feel that you cannot do it any longer than just walk away; let whatever is going to happen, happen."

"I can't answer that. I don't know what I want," he muttered. "I don't know fi Ill have a choice."

"There are some things that even you cannot stop or prevent my son. You cannot save everyone and you shouldn't even have to. I know I did wrong; know I treated you poorly and I know that you must hate me. There is no way to express how deeply sorry I am for the pain and hurt I caused you," Hunith said as she petted the back of her son's head, "Which is why if you want me to stay away when we get back home, then I will."

He nodded. She could say that again. "Like destiny," he agreed. "I've tried to stop it, to change it, to ignore it, and it still hangs around like flies to honey…"

"Thank you," he muttered, turning away from Hunith. With his hands still in his pockets, Merlin headed back up the hill.

Morgana sat leaning up against a tree a little ways away from the device and her brother. She checked the time display on her phone. If Merlin and the others were as slow as she thought they would be she estimated that they had probably just met the Serkets which meant they were roughly three miles away. She smirked, knowing that there were still more dangers separating them from the device. There was the lake which she herself had nearly fallen victim to and then there was the small cave with the Questing Beast. They would have to get through the cave and deal with the beast; only then would they find themselves on the ridge. Only then would they be able to see the device down below.

Oh yes, she would let them at least see the device; know it was real and then she would destroy it before any of them reached it. She glanced up at her brother who was once again lying on his side. He was still in the chains, which made his moving around almost impossible.

She knew he was getting worse; his face had lost all of its color, he was coughing and gasping almost constantly and he had lost all feeling in his arms and legs; she knew this because he had stopped flexing his fingers roughly thirty minutes ago. Morgana knew he was going to die; wanted him to die but not yet.

He would last a bit longer. He would last until his friends got there; of that she was pretty sure. She smirked, wanting to see the look on Merlin's face when he realized the Prince was dead and that his destiny would never be fulfilled.

"You know, this is a really stupid thing to do, Morgana," Arthur whispered. "If I die, you're going to be next. My men and Merlin won't stop until you're dead. Is that what you want?"

Morgana had just sent a text to her sister, letting her know that soon all of their troubles would be over. She glanced up at her brother when he spoke. "What I want is Camelot. What I want is for me and my people to be free from vermin like you and Uther. I am not concerned with your Knights, dear brother. With you dead and the device destroyed they will have no way to follow me and Merlin? He is so weak and unsure of himself that he will be easy to dispose of," Morgana replied in an icy tone.

"Do you really think you can get it this way? You'll be hunted," Arthur hissed. "And do you really think that I would keep magic banned if I was king? No…I wouldn't. For Merlin's sake…."

"And you really expect me to believe that?" Morgana asked in annoyance, "You have been a liar your entire life brother. Nothing you say is ever the truth."

"When have I lied to you?" he asked.

Morgana snorted, not believing that Arthur didn't even know what she was talking about. Opening her mouth she rattled off instance after instance from the time they were children to just before she and Morgause had sent them all to the 21'st century.

Arthur was quiet, lowering his gaze for a moment but then he looked up and watched his sister continue whatever she was doing on her phone. It was about all he really could do. He was losing strength and he knew it. Arthur could feel his body slowing down; felt the need to sleep come across him like a wave. He wanted to give in, close his eyes and go to sleep but he feared that if he did then he wouldn't wake up again.

"The one time I really need you Merlin and you aren't here…" he whispered under his breath.

Morgana looked at Arthur. "Oh, dear brother, he will be," she purred. "Don't worry…"

Arthur laid his head down on the ground, deciding to conserve as much energy as he possibly could. He closed his eyes to rest them; the sun seeming so bright that even though he wasn't looking directly at it, it still seemed to burn his eyes.

After several minutes he heard the crackling of leaves as someone approached him, then he felt a foot prod him in his side, so he weakly cracked an eye open to find Morgana standing above him. She had a slight look of anger on her face which turned to general annoyance when he opened his eyes to look at her. He figured that he must have lain so still and quiet that his sister must have feared he had already died; that was probably where the anger came from. The annoyance probably came from the fact that Morgana had worried herself over nothing.

"Now, now Arthur, none of that. You must stay awake now. You will want to see your friends when they arrive, right?" Morgana asked with a sinister smile on her face.

"What's the point?" he asked. "You are already planning to kill us all and you've already poisoned me. Why should you care if I live long enough to see them get here?"

"This isn't just about you, Arthur, it is much bigger than you," Morgana said, kneeling down and grasping her brother's jaw with her gloved hand, squeezing it a little in order to cause pain. "Have no fear, your death is coming soon, but I want to see the look on dear Merlin's face the moment you die. I want to see him suffer and then I'll allow him to join you."

She reached in to her pocket and withdrew another needle with the same pale green substance in it, showing it to Arthur before pushing it back in to her pocket. "I will show him how it feels to die at the hands of someone he used to call friend."

Arthur shook his head, half wanting to take that needle out and inject his sister with it, but with the enchanted chains that had him secured, he knew that he was unable to do that. "You won't win," whispered the blonde-haired man.

Morgana smiled, releasing her brother's jaw. "Keep telling yourself that Arthur, but know this. Some way, somehow I always win," she said with glee.


	55. Chapter 54: The Lake

Merlin turned away from his mother. He climbed the hill with a slow, shuffling gate. His shoulder sagged and his face was drawn. His mind was on the weird moment he had just had with his mother.

Did he want to give up? Yes, more than anything in the world. He didn't want to have to do anything. He didn't want to have to think. He didn't want to have to be the hero. He just wanted to be in a mindless void where all that mattered was his heart beating and lungs working. Could he give up? Merlin wasn't sure if he was allowed to. He didn't think he could and Merlin hated that. Destiny seemed to have a different role for him. Destiny seemed to want him to keep going.

Did he want his mother tostay away? Merlin thought he knew the answer. Yes, he did. He wanted her to stay away. He didn't want to have to ever see her again. The cruelty and the coldness and the hatred directed towards him were too much for him to bear. He didn't think he'd ever get over it.

Merlin wished there was a way to escape it all. He didn't want his destiny. He didn't want to be the protector of the universe. He didn't want to feel the hurt or the ache. Was there a way to escape? Death, perhaps, but the warlock didn't think that was an option even if he wanted it to be.

Coming to the group, Merlin lurked behind Gaius. Wiping the tears away, he tapped Gaius on the shoulder. "How is he? How's Gwaine," he asked. His voice shook and his eyes held a dark, haunted expression.

Gaius looked up, his long white hair cascading down his shoulders. "He's" the doctor began but he was immediately interrupted by "Fine, I'm okay Merlin, thanks to you."

Lancelot and Percival moved to the side to allow the warlock to see Gwaine who had been blocked from view. Gwaine was sitting upright, sipping on a bottle of water at Gaius's request. He looked better; color had returned to his face and he didn't seem to be in pain at all.

Merlin looked over at Gwaine. He gave the man a thin smile. "Good," he said. Shrugging at the thanks, the warlock continued in a quiet voice, "You would've done the same for me."

He looked at the other men and then back at Gwaine. "I'm sorry for…" he stammered. For a moment he stopped speaking to figure out what he wanted to say. When he had decided, the warlock breathed out slowly and said, "I'm sorry for putting you all in danger like that. I should have been more careful."

The Knights looked at one another, all looking quite confused. To them Merlin did nothing wrong. The Serket's coming up on them had been an accident; none even thought that the warlock falling down and hitting upon the rock had done anything to provoke the creatures.

Hey it's okay, Merlin," Elyan said as he came up and placed a hand on the warlock's shoulder. "It was an accident. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

The warlock didn't say anything. Instead, he just shook his head. It wasn't OK – at least not with him. However, Merlin didn't feel like convincing them otherwise. They'd believe what they wanted to and there was no changing their minds about it.

"Let's get you up mate." Percival said to Gwaine, grasping his friend under the arm and helping to support him as Gwaine slowly climbed to his feet. At first he was a little unsteady and grimaced a little as the hole in his back where the Serket had struck him stretched a little. His destroyed shirt; which Gaius had had to rip open during CPR, had been discarded leaving his bare chest in full view for everyone to see, but the Knight really didn't care.

Figuring Gwaine would get cold, Merlin rummaged through Arthur's bag. Anything that was his would probably fit him better than Merlin's clothes, which were a size smaller. Finding a pullover sweater, he grabbed it and handed it to Gwaine. "Here," he said in a sheepish voice.

The Knight looked to Merlin, seeing the offered azure blue pullover sweater that was held out to him, Gwaine took it and gingerly put it on. Even though it was Arthur's it fit like a glove which was rather surprising to him. "Thanks Merlin." he said.

"Don't mention it," whisper the warlock in return. "You really should rest." Gaius suggested, standing up as Gwaine had stood up.

The Knight shook his head negatively. Rest was for the weak and besides they still had yet to find any sign of Arthur or this device which the man had been so sure existed. "Not until we secure the device," he said.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Merlin promised Gaius with a thin smile. "It'll be all right. If it's not, we'll figure something out. I will figure something…." He was cut off by Leon's shouts.

"Over here!"

As one the entire group looked up and down the path to see Leon kneeling down beside something small and darkly colored. Curious they all hurried over to see what the strange object was and when they were closer it became all too obvious what the object was. It was Arthur's jacket; the one he had been wearing the previous night in the cave, and on top of that was his cellphone or at least what was left of it; broken pieces and buttons barely resembling a phone were all that was left.

Uther, recognizing the jacket, stooped down and grabbed it. He stood up again, which caused the remnants of the cellphone to fall to the dirt path with a dull thwack. The King fingered the leather material; a look of sadness and anger passing over his face as he did so. He always tried to protect his son from any dangers; it was always the job of the father to protect the son and he felt like he had failed.

Lancelot studied the jacket that the King held. "At least now we know that we are going in the right direction," he said.

"Yes, but without knowing when Arthur disappeared...he could have several hours head start. He could still be miles away," Leon retorted.

Gwaine chuckled and then grasped the Knight's shoulders, shaking him a little. "You gotta learn to be more positive. This is Arthur we're talking about. He can wrestle the arms off of a grizzly bear."

"Enough. Whatever my son can or cannot do is not important right now. We are not getting anything done by standing here. We must move on," Uther said, not in any mood to mince words. Dropping the jacket back down to the ground the King strode forward, everyone else following behind.

"Besides, we can't worry about that right now. We just have to keep going. Maybe he's already at the machine," he suggested. "If he is, he'd wait."

They moved on in relative silence for another hour until they came out of the trees and found that the path they were following met up with and followed along a beautiful lake for a little ways until disappearing in to the trees again.

Gwaine was shuffling along. He didn't want to admit it, but he was a bit tired from the poisoning. When his toe caught on something, he looked down. It was a thin wire. "Oh, crap. Hey, guys, careful!" Gwaine shouted.

Merlin was quite ahead of the group. The warlock was worried about Arthur. He wanted to find him and fast. When he heard the shout, the warlock turned and looked behind him. Merlin wasn't quite sure what Gwaine had said.

Shrugging it off, he turned back around and continued forward. As he went, Merlin noticed a lot of Hawthorne trees, which seemed unusual. He had never before seen so many in one area.

Hearing a woman's scream, Merlin jerked his head around towards the lake. In the middle was the form of a dark-haired woman. He hands were up and she was bobbing, almost struggling to stay afloat. "I'm coming," he shouted.

Without a second of hesitation, Merlin dashed into the water. His feet slid on the silt-covered bottom and when he was waist deep in the lake water, the ground dropped to a sharp angle. With his feet flying out from under him, he went under. Screaming in surprise, he swallowed several lungful's of water. He didn't know or understand why but it felt as if a great weight was attached to his legs, pulling him down further under the water.

He struggled, trying to kick to the surface but no matter how hard he tried he was only dragged down further. Merlin felt his lungs aching and burning; crying out for oxygen but there was none to be had. His arms were growing tired from the constant struggle and the headache he had been sporting since he had woken up that morning was ten times worse.

He looked up seeing the sun's reflection on the surface of the water. To him it looked dim, as if the sun were already going down; he didn't know that it was because his oxygen-starved brain was moments from passing out.

A deep, overwhelming sense of failure washed over the young man right then. He knew he had failed; failed to protect Arthur, failed to get them all home, hell...he had failed in his destiny. This knowledge caused him to hang his head and close his eyes. He managed to squeeze out a single tear that was immediately washed away by the water surrounding him before he finally gave in to the darkness that had engulfed his mind. Moments later his limp body came to rest at the bottom of the lake.

The moment Merlin gave a yell and disappeared underneath the water, Lancelot gave a little yell of his own and then ran forward, barely remembering to drop his gun on the shore so it wouldn't get wet before he dove down underneath the waves. Even though the water was clear, there were dark shadows everywhere, obscuring the bottom from view. Lungs burning, he surfaced once. "Merlin!" he exclaimed, coughing once before took a deep breath and dove down again.

He made it all the way to the bottom of the lake and by sheer luck his hand brushed across something soft. Grabbing hold he realized it was a jacket. Following the jacket up, Lancelot was able to feel a shoulder, a neck and then a face. Tugging the body up, he tugged it hard against his chest as he swam towards the surface; breaching the water after twenty seconds.

With another tug he pulled Merlin's head up above water and then swam the two of them towards the edge where the others were waiting; ready to collect the warlock. All this time the young man didn't mutter a single word or even take a breath. From the look on the warlock's face, Lancelot feared that he was already dead.

Percival met Lancelot and Merlin at the water's edge. He took the limp body from the other man and carried him up the bank. The warlock was painfully cold, but he didn't shiver and the knight knew that was a bad thing. His eyes were closed and there was peace upon his face, something Percival hadn't seen since they started for the machine. Pressing an ear to Merlin's chest and placed a hand in front of his mouth, he frowned. "He's not breathing," the knight said in a worried voice.

As Leon helped Lancelot out of the water, Gaius examined Merlin. "We need to start a fire and we need Hawthorne," he shouted.

"Gaius, is he…is he dead," Hunith breathed. Tears were in her eyes as she looked at her boy. Getting on her knees, she stroked Merlin's wet hair away from his blue-tinted face.

Hunith, not now please," Gaius replied, slipping in to full-fledged 'doctor' mode. While the Knights raced to get the Hawthorne, Gaius began to preform chest compressions on Merlin.

"That isn't an answer," muttered the woman. She stood and got away from Merlin. The mother couldn't bear to watch her son die before her eyes. She also figured Gaius needed his space. With shaking legs, she went off and sat, helplessly, on a boulder.

Because the boy wasn't breathing, just sitting there and waiting for the Hawthorne wasn't an option. If he did that then the boy would surely die. Chest compressions assured that oxygenated blood continued to circulate in Merlin's system, and that meant it was also getting to his brain as well. "Come on Merlin, come on my boy!" Gaius pleaded, pressing down on the warlock's chest once every second.

When the Knights returned with handfuls of the requested Hawthorne, Percival took over the chest compressions and Leon even gave the boy mouth-to-mouth while the physician prepared a draft of the medicine.

Merlin's body jerked and went into as spasm as his heart began to work on its own accord. As Merlin seized, his back arched as he gasped for breath. Then he started coughing and shivering violently.

"So cold," he whispered through chattering teeth. Then the coughing got harder, which made him expel all of the lake water. Rocking his head, he tried to tilt.

Lancelot saw his struggle and rolled Merlin over. He patted him on the back to help the boy throw up all the liquid from his lungs. "He's really cold, Gaius," Lancelot remarked as he stared down at the young man, who had his eyes squinted tightly together. He noticed the pained expression on Merlin's face and frowned. "Is the Hawthorne ready? What can we do for the pain? What's causing it?"

The Hawthorne was almost ready, just a minute or two more and it would be done. "Elyan check his pack; see if he brought a change of clothes with him. If he did, get him in to some dry clothes quickly." Gaius instructed.

The Knight nodded his head and grabbed Merlin's pack which the boy had dropped before he had gone into the water. Rummaging through it he pulled out a beige button up shirt, a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater.

Immediately, the Knight began to strip the warlock; everyone turning away to give them some privacy. While they all were men and Hunith was his mother, they all knew how Merlin felt about privacy. Once the dry clothes were put on, Gaius knelt down beside the warlock and administered the Hawthorne.

"Anyone have a blanket or a jacket?" he asked. "He needs to be kept as warm as possible."

Lancelot looked through the bags. Finding himself a change of clothes as well as a couple emergency blankets, he pulled those things out. Handing the blankets to Gaius, he went behind the bushes and changed into the green sweater and jeans.

Gaius gratefully took the blankets and immediately wrapped both of them around the boy; tucking them in on all sides. Merlin was still out of it; eyes closed, body rigid and teeth chattering. He was deathly pale; lips still a tinged blue color. He did not look good.

After finishing up getting dressed Lancelot went back to the group. "Is he going to be all right, Gaius," he asked. "Why didn't he react to being changed or rolled over? Why's he in pain?"

"He is exhausted; completely and utterly exhausted. He has been running on adrenaline for so long that I fear his body is finally giving out. He is certainly in no shape to continue. He needs to be taken down the mountain and admitted in to the nearest hospital," Gaius replied.

"Merlin is not going to like that," Lancelot pointed out. "He'll fight us the whole way. He won't want to go. And what will we do when we find Arthur and Merlin isn't with us? He'll freak and go find him."

"Arthur's connection with Merlin is a strong one, but I believe that even he knows that Merlin is unwell and in need of help," Gaius replied.

"Indeed it is, but I think he will. Arthur's spent enough time with him these last few months. He surely understands," Lancelot agreed with a slight nod. "Arthur does want to help Merlin, but he doesn't know how. Can he be helped, Gaius?"

Gaius was quiet for a moment, pondering that very same question. Could Merlin even be helped? It was every doctor's first thought that yes their patients could be helped, they just needed to find the right method but in Merlin's case. "I think only Merlin can answer that question." He finally replied.

Lancelot nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right. I don't know if he knows the answer though," muttered the knight.

This was a complicated situation. By turning back, Merlin (and whoever else went with him) would not go back to their time. It didn't feel right and Lancelot didn't like it at all. "And even if we get him down to the hospital, how will we stop him from discharging himself? Merlin won't want to stay," the knight asked.

"Given his past history of drug use and suicide he will be evaluated to see if he is mentally competent and stable. If he is then he can discharge himself, if he isn't then his care will fall to me and then I can make him stay. I don't want to do that Lancelot; believe me I don't, but the boy needs more help than I can give right now," Gaius replied.

Lancelot raised his eyebrows and looked at Merlin. "I doubt they will find him mentally stable, Gaius. He's barely holding it together as it is. I'm surprised he's lasted as long as he has," the knight said. "He is so upset and so depressed, Merlin can't hide it. I think he would if he could. Just looking into his eyes, you can see the desperation. At least, I can, can you?"

Gwaine wiped his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt guilty. If he hadn't tripped he wire, Merlin wouldn't be an icicle. Now, Gwaine understood why Merlin had apologized. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

The aged physician sighed. He had seen the desperation in the boy's eyes that time he came to the hospital what seemed like a very long time ago now. He had seen the desperation and had done little to help him. Looking to his left, the physician eyed the King who was pacing back and forth, waiting for everyone else to get ready to move out. He knew that the King was chomping at the bit to find his son and they all needed to reach the device. What were they to do? He didn't want to break up the group, but it was clear that Merlin could not go on; not in his present state.

"Merlin cannot be moved until he regains consciousness. When that happens, I will require one of you to help me take him back down the mountain. The rest should continue on. I fear that Arthur needs help as well. Under the circumstances I will not ask any one of you to stay behind to help me with Merlin, but I will ask for volunteers," Gaius said.

"I will stay," Lancelot offered. "I feel I might be able to talk a little sense in him and make him stay in the hospital. I am doubtful I'll be able to it, but it's a possibility."

Percival, Elyan, Leon and Gwaine all looked at each other, none of them wanting to break up the group but each understanding the need for it. They had to press on, they had to protect the King and Hunith and they had to find the device and their Prince. After bidding each other goodbye the rest of the Knight's moved closer to the King. Hunith declared that she wasn't leaving the spot without her son, so she elected to stay behind, as well. Within two minutes the Knight's and the King moved out leaving Hunith, Gaius and Lancelot behind to tend to Merlin.

Lancelot looked at Merlin. "Arthur tried to get him to turn back last night. Merlin had a nightmare. I don't know what it was about, but he was shaking and his heart was racing and he was sweating. His head was killing him. It's no wonder he's exhausted. I doubt he's been sleeping much.

"He's so broken, Gaius. He's worn out and I don't think he really wants to live or even knows how to. That stroke he had with the surgery has caused him so much strife, just as much as the things he has done," Lancelot mused. "If we take him back I fear they'll institutionalize him. He doesn't want that. I fear if we take him back he won't even make the trip. We're about two miles from the machine – that would be about 2 hours on foot. The hospital is six. Couldn't he rest when we get to Camelot?"

Gaius knew the lad would want to continue if he were conscious; knew the fuss he would make if the physician put his foot down and said they were going back down. "In theory, yes, he could Lancelot, but I fear if we do manage to get him back to Camelot and then he crashes I won't have the tools necessary to bring him back," he replied.

Lancelot nodded. "I have been wondering what he will do once he gets back to Camelot as well. He seems better once he has had his antidepressants, but there's only a few on him. When he gets to Camelot, there will be nothing to help his condition and there will be nothing to help him recover from the drugs. I don't know if he has the coping abilities to deal with the emotions that will arise," he mused.

Magic could only do so much and right then only the King knew about his past and knew he had magic and even so Gaius knew his magic was nowhere near as strong as Merlin's. He didn't know if he would be able to save him using magic if it even came to that. It was then that Gaius made a decision. Reaching in to his pocket he withdrew a small, sealed packet. Pointing to the boy's water bottle he asked Lancelot to hand it to him which the Knight did.

Taking the bottle the doctor unscrewed the lid and then opened the packet, dumping the tan crystals into the water. Screwing the lid back on he then proceeded to shake the water bottle vigorously, making the crystal's go in to solution.

"When Merlin wakes up he must drink this. It will help with the pain and help to balance his electrolytes. He must drink all of it though and if he refuses then we must take him back down. Him drinking it all is the only way I will allow him to continue on," Gaius said.

"I'm sure he'll be thirsty and I'm sure he'll do anything to get to Arthur and to the machine," Lancelot said. "What is it though? What were those crystals?"

"It is a type of electrolyte replenishment powder; they only look like crystals. This will help with any pain and muscle cramps he may have as well as help him to stay hydrated," Gaius explained.

Lancelot looked at Merlin. The young man was still unconscious. That didn't seem normal or right and made him a bit nervous. "Shouldn't he have woken by now?" the knight asked. "It's been quite a while."

"It depends. A victim of drowning or near drowning can be unconscious for minutes, hours, even days. Every person is different. I know we cannot stay out here for days though. If he doesn't awaken soon we'll have to risk moving him."

Gaius didn't want to do that but if the boy didn't wake up, then they would have no other choice. Merlin needed help and the doctor was going to make sure he got it; one way or another.

Morgana grumbled a little as she once again stood up from checking on her brother. Another hour had passed and still there was no sign that Merlin and the others were anywhere near their location. She knew that they would be slow, but she hadn't expected for them to be that slow. Arthur had finally lost consciousness roughly thirty minutes ago and already Morgana had had to use her magic twice to keep him breathing.

It was clear to her that her brother's body had lost the ability to breathe and function on its own. For the briefest of moments she considered just letting him die right then and there, but the sheer desire to hurt Merlin overrode that idea. She wanted to see the warlock's face; wanted to see the moment he realized he had been so close and yet so far away from saving his friend.

Knowing that Arthur was no longer a threat Morgana removed the chains that bound him, tossing them away to land in a thick bush before she pulled out her phone and checked the time. Oh yes, they were drawing near, she could feel it. Everything was drawing to a close.


	56. The End is Nigh

Lancelot was poking at the fire with a stick. He wanted to keep it going so that Merlin was as warm as possible Every now and then; the knight would check on the still unconscious warlock and was pleased to feel warmth and color returning to his face. "You've got to wake up, Merlin," whispered the man.

A little bit ago, Gaius had gone to get some more wood for the fire and so it was just Hunith and Lancelot with Merlin. He didn't like being left with the woman. He didn't know what she had done to Merlin, but it must've been horrific.

Spying the woman sitting on a close by rock, Lancelot stood and strode over to her. He put his hands on his hips as he glared at her. "What did you do?" he demanded. "What did you do to Merlin? Don't lie to me. A person doesn't get chronically depressed or suicidal for nothing! I know he's done things that he feels guilty for, but I know it's more. Arthur hates you and he never hates anyone. So what did you do?"

At first Hunith just stared at Lancelot, not even knowing how to answer his question. Slowly she swallowed and then proceeded to chew the two pieces of Winterfresh gum she had been chewing on for the past fifteen minutes; it had kept her mind busy, but now it wasn't helping at all.

"You would not understand, Sir Lancelot," Hunith began. "I do not even understand myself. I was so…caught up with everything. I had things I had never had before; friends, position, wealth…I was so focused on that, that I lost sight of what was truly important. I lost my son and I have no one to blame, but myself."

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure I wouldn't understand? I know lot more then you could ever imagine. He acts like he's about ready to jump out of his skin whenever you're around," he asked. "I understand that I see my friend hurting and broken and lost his drive or care to live. I understand that an innocent and good man lost everything, maybe more."

"I've seen the poor get rich, but I've never seen them turn on their child so drastically. I've seen families lose loved ones, I've seen that more times than I can count, and this never happened," he said, gesturing towards Merlin.

Hunith truly regretted her actions towards her son; threatening him, throwing him out of the house, and disowning him, but there was nothing she could do to take it back even though she sincerely wanted to. "I never wished to hurt him; I only tried to help him see. I don't even know when things got out of hand, but one thing led to another and he left," Hunith said.

"That's a lie. He didn't leave willingly. You made him leave. Don't forget, Hunith, I have access to a lot of confidential things. With your husband and what he was doing, a lot of things were dug up – security tapes and doctors reports included," Lancelot said. "You know your son had a severe appendicitis attack the night you threw him out? He went straight to the hospital."

Sitting up Hunith reached out her hand and slapped Lancelot hard across his right cheek. "How dare you!" she said, "If he had an appendicitis attack don't pin it on me! Yes, we argued. Yes, I took things too far, but don't you forget that he was on drugs at the time!" Hunith's palm burned from where she had slapped the Knight and she could see the area of skin on Lancelot's face turning pink where she had hit him. Still, the slap had felt good, because she thought that the Knight was blaming her for Merlin's trip to the hospital.

"Did I say I blamed you for that? No," remarked the knight. He didn't respond to the slap. He'd had worse happen to him. "I just thought you should be aware of this event because you and he haven't seem to have much contact with each other since then. If you don't believe me, check his side." Lancelot said.

"Did I say he left willingly?! No! All I said was he left! It could have meant he left willingly, but this time it meant he was forced to leave! And don't you dare call me a liar! You may think you know what's going on, but you have no idea!" Hunith declared, rising to her feet.

Lancelot sighed. He opened his mouth to respond, but then he heard a noise. Closing his mouth, he turned to see Merlin shifting. Without looking back at Hunith, the knight went to Merlin's side. Crouching, he studied the boy. "Merlin," he called and then waited to see if he would respond.

The warlock gave a moan as he moved his head a little. His face was etched in pain but it was unclear if he was having a nightmare or if he was really in pain. "Merlin!" Gaius muttered, gently shaking the young man. "Wake up son!"

Slowly Merlin shuddered a little and then opened his eyes. He looked confused and his eyes were tinged with pain. Even though Lancelot was concerned about the pain the raven haired man seemed to be experiencing he was also glad to see that the lad was awake. "Welcome back!" he muttered softly.

God, his lungs burned. Every muscle in his body ached. His head was killing him. "Can someone turn down the sun," he muttered after opening his eyes a little bit more. "It's too bright."

He felt grumpy. He probably sounded grumpy too. Merlin really didn't care. He'd about drowned!

Shakily, he sat up. "Mmmm," he groaned as he wavered a little bit. Keeping the blankets around him, he raised a hand and raked his fingers through his hair before rubbing his eyes.

"I heard someone in the water and saw them," Merlin said. Listening, the man could still hear the same sound, but it was fading. "It was a trap wasn't it?"

Lancelot nodded his head a little, glancing towards the water as well. It was clear that Merlin was hearing the same call, but the Knight himself didn't hear a thing. "I think so, Merlin," he replied.

"My father was hell bound to protect the machine. He wasn't going to let just anyone get it. Think if the machine had fallen into the wrong hands. We could have lost WWII," muttered the warlock. His voice was craggy and rough from the water inhalation and screaming.

Lancelot was silent; that remark about World War II being so far out in leftfield that he hadn't been expecting it at all.

"So, I guess it makes sense. What else are we going to face until we actually get it?" Merlin was not expecting an answer. No one, but his father could tell them that.

The warlock licked his lips. His throat felt completely dry. "May I have something to drink, please," he asked.

Looking around, Merlin saw that he was alone with his mother and Gaius. "Where's everyone?" the warlock asked, his throat craggy from unconsciousness and screaming. "How long was I out?"

Gaius handed Merlin his water bottle; after popping the top of course, but didn't answer the young man's other question. Instead Lancelot; after glancing at his watch for a moment, decided to answer the question.

"You've been out for two and a half hours Merlin. The King was anxious to keep moving so everyone else decided to stay with him. Your mother and I volunteered to remain with you and Gaius until you woke up. Gaius wants you to be taken back down and put into a hospital, but I managed to convince him otherwise. All we need for you to do is drink every drop that's in that bottle."

The warlock groaned. "Great," he said. A crestfallen look flickered through his blue eyes. "I'm sorry…I hope we're not too late and we're not stuck here. It's not right for you to be left in the future when your homes are..."

He shook his head, not wanting to continue on with that particular train of thought. "You didn't have to stay. You shouldn't have," Merlin replied. Hearing that Gaius wanted him in the hospital, he looked towards the path they'd been going and then he sighed.

On one hand, Merlin wanted to go back to the past. But, on the other hand, something made him want to stay. He also knew that remaining wasn't an option. "Arthur needs me. I'm not going to the hospital," he whispered.

With a shaking arm, he lifted the bottle to his lips. Pouring some of the liquid into his mouth, he sputtered. "God, that's horrible. What did you put in there, Gaius?" the warlock asked in a rhetoric tone.

The aged physician ignored the question but decided to take that time to check Merlin's vitals and it was obvious from the look on his face that Gaius didn't like what he was finding. "It may taste foul Merlin, but you must drink it all," he said, "Otherwise you _must_ be taken back down for your own health and safety."

"Foul is a bloody understatement, Gaius," Merlin said, making a funny face. "But I'll drink it. I am not going back." Taking a deep breath, he took another drink. The stuff was bitter and it burned his throat. After the third sip and the third grimace as the disgusting stuff slid down his throat, the warlock finally noticed the look on Gaius's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "I know that look and it's never good. Tell me, please."

Gaius sighed, noticing how Lancelot and Hunith got ever closer so they could hear what he was going to say. "Merlin," he began. "Your pulse is rapid, you've got a fever and I imagine your blood pressure is sky-rocketing, as well. If these things are not addressed and soon..." he trailed off with a shake of his head.

"Give me an aspirin then," Merlin requested as he finished the hideously tasting drink. He sat the bottle down so that he could wrap his arms around himself. He still felt chilled from being in the water.

He didn't really care about his blood pressure or his pulse. Truthfully, he hadn't even realized it was fast. It had been rapid since the surgery and the stroke. Merlin was half used to it.

"What, Gaius? What could happen to him?" Lancelot asked.

The aged physician looked at the Knight for a second, the words leaving a foul taste in his mouth as he spoke them. "Merlin will die. I cannot say when exactly, but if he is not treated and allowed to rest for a very long time, then he will simply collapse again from complete exhaustion. After that his internal organs will start to fail and once that happens...only magic or modern medicine will be enough to save him and if he's in Camelot when that happens...Lancelot...you know Uther's views on magic."

He allowed a flicker of fear to cross his eyes, but after a moment it was replaced by determination. "If I die, I die, but I am not going to give up on my destiny or on Arthur," Merlin said, swallowing hard and holding back the tears that brimmed his eyes. "Besides, I don't think I can die until everything's complete."

Merlin looked at them all. He could see their worry. "It'll be okay. It always is. I promise to rest, but only when we get to Camelot," he told them. "Listen, I am not afraid to die. Things will happen as they happen."

Gaius hadn't wanted to say it at all but it was necessary so that the warlock understood how dire his own situation was. Arthur be damned; the warlock needed to look after himself!

Shakily, he stood. Merlin used the tree for support as he steady himself. "Come on, let's go," the warlock said.

From the moment they all set off again they walked at a steady pace. This was the only reason they managed to catch up to the rest of the group just outside the entrance to a dark cave. Going through the cave was the only way to move forward since there were impenetrable rock walls surrounding them on all sides so it was either go through the cave or turn back.

After back slaps and handshakes and 'it's great to see you Merlin' lines spouted to the warlock, everyone looked at the cave in front of them. "There's been strange..." Gwaine began but he was interrupted by a hiss coming from inside the cave. The hiss sounded evil and unearthly and downright scary.

"If this is another trap it's going to be worse than the lake. The question is...what could possibly be worse than drowning?" Lancelot asked.

"There are a lot of beasts that could make drowning seem better, but there's only one that I know of that makes that type of noise," Gaius said.

Uther who had been sitting on a rock, pondering his next move suddenly looked up at the physician. "What do you think it is then, Gaius?" he asked.

"Sire," Gaius began, glancing at the King, "I believe it to be the Questing Beast."


	57. Chapter 56: Home

Merlin stared at the beast as it paced in front of them, ready to attack. "Do not let it strike you," he cautioned. Everyone in the cave surely knows how deadly a bite or even a scratch from a Questing beast was.

Just five minutes ago they had all gone to the large mouth of the cave; Percival, Leon and Elyan shining their flashlights on the beast. Ever since then no one had moved; too scared to attract any more attention to themselves, lest the beast attack.

Merlin's mind was on overdrive as he tried to come up with a plan. Magic was needed to defeat the beast, but Uther was there and if the King saw, well Merlin would surely be dead sooner rather than later. Then, that familiar look came onto his face as he smirked. He knew what to do.

"OK, you all have guns, right? On the count of three, aim them and shoot the beast all at once," Merlin said. The guns would probably hurt the questing beast, but Merlin was planning to use his magic as well.

The Knights all looked at one another but they all drew their weapons as the warlock had suggested; prepping them and then aiming at the beast. They had all been trained to shoot to kill so they were all aiming at the beast's head.

"Ready." They all said in unison, waiting for the countdown to fire.

Merlin motioned for Hunith and Gaius to stay behind him, so they both backed up and away from the cave. Uther however did not move. Instead he drew his own 9 millimeter pistol out and aimed it at the beast.

"One." Merlin said. He watched everyone tighten the grips on the weapons; eyes never leaving the beast. "Two." No one moved; not a sound was heard except for the questing beast's pacing; it was as if the world was somehow holding its breath. "Three."

The guns went off. As they did, the warlock raised his hand. Willing his magic to strike the beast dead, he watched as it was blown backwards just as the bullets imbedded into the questing beast. When the creature hit the wall, there was a sickening crunch and it slid down the stony wall, lifeless – dead.

Reeling backwards, Merlin caught himself by planting a hand on Gaius's shoulder. The man was thankful he was behind him or he would've fallen and cracked his head for the umpteenth time. His heart was racing and Merlin was shaking and sweating. He had used a lot of energy doing that. His magic really did not work properly in this world. This time, his gift overcompensated

"Is everyone all right?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and quiet. Balling up his hands, Merlin willed himself to calm his nerves and heartbeat down.

While everyone checked themselves over and holstered their guns, Gaius preformed yet another quick check on the warlock's heart rate, not liking the fact that it was racing as much as it was.

"We're fine Merlin." Elyan said after he received nods from the others.

Merlin for his part jerked his arm out of Gaius's hands. He understood why the physician was so worried, but this was getting ridiculous. They couldn't afford to stop all of the time just so he could get checked out. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. We have to go, now," the warlock said. "Besides, I'm used to feeling like this. It's become a new normal."

"Hey," Percival called from around a sharp corner just up ahead, "The cave ends just around the corner and I saw something incredible down in the clearing. It...it looks just like the fabled Sword in the Stone."

"That's it!" Merlin muttered glad to know that the little trek was almost over. He led the rest of the group over to where Percival was standing. The muscular Knight pointed up a semi sharp hill that was just up ahead.

He sidled over to Percival. "In our world, where we came from, I put it there. It's real. It's no fable," Merlin whispered. "In front of my very eyes I watched the sword get forged in the dragon's breath. My father must have seen the prophecies and thought it would be amusing to recreate it in this life." The warlock grew quiet as he stepped away from Percival.

"It's right over the hill." Percival said.

"We have to be careful. We don't know what we'll face," Merlin pointed out as he went over the ridge.

The moment the sound of gunshots were heard, Morgana looked up and smirked. It was show time. She quickly took her place on the hill and crouched down, knowing that the trees would hide her from view until she was ready. Arthur was where she had left him, on the other side of two large boulders that were near the device. From the top of the hill to her left; where the entrance/exit of the Questing Beast's cave was, Morgana knew the Knights, Merlin and the rest would be coming down that way. They would first see the device and upon closer inspection they would find their beloved Prince but he was already dead, she had made sure of it.

Sure his heart was still beating, but he had already stopped breathing and looked to be as dead as a doornail. It wouldn't be too much longer before she would have no need to worry about him meddling in her affairs again.

Merlin was the first to come to the clearing. He blinked at the scene before him. There was the machine looking just as the pictures predicted. Everything was shiny and untouched. He began to hope that maybe just maybe they had beaten Morgana to it; that there was still a chance to go home.

As one, the entire group made their way down the hill but about half way down they all stopped as a limp hand and a head of blonde hair came in to view lying on the ground just on the other side of some boulders.

The sight made Merlin's blood run cold as his head and heart pounded. "No," he bellowed. Merlin could feel the rush of magic and adrenaline course through him. The power longed to escape and wreak havoc and revenge. "Arthur!"

Everyone picked up speed, racing the rest of the way down the hill. Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival took positions around the device, their eyes scanning the hillside looking for danger. Leon stayed with the King who was at Arthur's side, cradling his son's limp and cold body to his chest.

Merlin just stood there staring in disbelief at the scene before him. It was impossible wasn't it? Arthur couldn't be dead...not here! This wasn't the way things were supposed to go!

Gaius squeezed by Merlin and knelt down next to the King, gently prying Arthur away from the older man.

Placing Arthur on his back Gaius first checked for a carotid pulse on the Prince's neck then he placed an ear to the man's chest and then his mouth, searching for any sign of life.

"You are too late."

As one they all looked up and to their left to see Morgana standing there, a wicked smirk on her face, "He is already dead, but don't worry...soon you all will join him."

Uther, with tears streaming down his face asked, "You would kill your own brother? Why?"

"Because...dear father, Camelot is mine. The kingdom and all of its territories are mine!" Morgana replied. She raised her right hand up in the air as all of the Knights drew their weapons and pointed them at her.

"Surrender now and you will not be harmed!" Sir Leon said, his own gun drawn and pointed at the High Priestess.

Morgana only chuckled; her eyes glowing gold for a moment. Suddenly all of the Knights were flung backwards, smacking in to trees that were several feet away from the device.

Uther, enraged at this, took out his pistol and fired at his daughter, but Morgana easily deflected the bullets before knocking her father on to his back with just a flick of her magic.

"Merlin," Gaius whispered, trying to get the warlock's attention, "You must do something. If you don't, we'll all die."

Merlin blinked slowly a few times before raising tear stained eyes towards the physician. Smoothly he withdrew Arthur's gun from his pocket, aimed and fired it at Morgana. Because she wasn't expecting it at all the bullet hit her in the leg, dropping her instantly.

Because of the way she fell down, the necklace around her neck fell off; the stone cracking to pieces underneath her own weight as she landed on it.

Merlin dropped to his knees, the gun falling from his hands. He hadn't wanted to do it; hurt Morgana again but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop her. He couldn't use his magic in front of the King; there was nothing else he could have done.

"I failed Gaius..." he murmured, arms going limp at his sides, "I failed in my destiny. Arthur's dead and it's all my fault."

Gaius shook his head, knowing that Merlin's statement was untrue. "He isn't dead he still has a pulse. It's very weak and I don't know how much longer it will last but he is not dead yet. Only your magic can save him, Merlin."

Merlin felt exhausted. He had already used his magic quite a bit and in the twenty first century, the use of magic always felt different. He really couldn't explain it better than that. "He's alive?" Merlin whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yes, but for how much longer is up to you!" Gaius responded.

The tears Merlin had been holding in fell down his cheeks. "I don't know if I can do it, Gaius," the warlock whispered in a grief-stricken voice. "I don't. My magic is different here. It doesn't work like it's supposed to." Merlin was afraid. He didn't want to fail saving Arthur, but also didn't want to blow everyone up with his erratic spell casting.

Looking at Arthur he took in a deep and shaky breath. He places his hands over Arthur's chest. "I really don't know if I can do this. But, I'll try. Distract Uther," Merlin whispered. "The poison runs deep. Its grasp on him feels impenetrable."

Gaius looked to Uther who was getting up and moving to check on Morgana; the look on the King's face told the physician that he was almost completely out of it and would be focused on his daughter for a little bit.

Merlin took a deep breath and closing his eyes, he chanted, "Ic the thurhhaele thinu licsar mid tham sundorcraeft thaere ealdan ae!"

Time seemed to slow to a snail's pace. Nothing moved. There was no wind or birds. There was nothing happening. Merlin opened his eyes and looked Arthur. Still now change. Swallowing, he said the same spell but in a firmer voice, "Ic the thurhhaele thinu licsar mid tham sundorcraeft thaere ealdan ae!"

With his whole body shaking, he fell back onto his ass. Sweat poured down his face, which was drained of color. Staring at Arthur, he pressed his hands against his lips and waited.

Gaius moved, placing a hand on Arthur's throat, and then placing an ear first to the Prince's chest and then his mouth. After a moment the physician sat up and gave a small sigh. "I'm sorry Merlin." he softly said, knowing that it was news the warlock didn't want to hear, but it was news he had to hear. Arthur was gone, there was nothing; no pulse and no respiration.

Merlin sat there looking towards Arthur's body without really seeing him or anything. Slowly, he shook he head. "No," the warlock whispered over and over and over again until it was nothing but gibberish. This was no how it was supposed to end. This was not how it was supposed to be.

"Gaius, how is...?"

The physician looked up to see the King supporting Morgana who had a bad gunshot wound to her leg. She looked pale and there were a few tears running down her face. Besides that she also looked different; almost remorseful.

"I'm sorry Sire," Gaius replied as he got to his feet to take Morgana from the King, "Your son is dead." By this time all of the Knights had regrouped and joined the others back at the device, just in time to hear Gaius's last statement.

They all looked back at Arthur's body and Merlin who was still sitting in shock where he had collapsed; hands pressed to his mouth to keep from sobbing. Lancelot walked over to the man and knelt down beside him, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"I'm sure you did everything you could," the Knight said.

Merlin clamped his mouth shut. His lips and jaws shuddered from repressed sobs. At the statement, the warlock shook his head. "No," was all he could say.

There was a blank and dead look in his eyes. He had failed. Arthur was dead and it was all his fault. They had been too slow getting here and it was because of him – if he hadn't released the serkets (which had nearly killed Gwaine) and then gone into the water and nearly drown they could've caught up to Arthur sooner rather than later. Something snapped inside of him as dark thoughts clouded his mind and made his stomach cramp so badly he wanted to throw up.

"I don't want to live," he whispered. His voice was devoid of emotion looking around; Merlin saw the syringe and wondered what was in it. Maybe poison…maybe antidote, he didn't know. He then spied the gun. His fingers curled into a fist as he futilely fought the oppressive depression and grief clouding his judgment.

"Merlin you mustn't think like that; Arthur wouldn't have wanted you to kill yourself. He would have wanted you to continue on," Lancelot said.

It was clear that Merlin really wasn't hearing a thing said to him. The Knight looked at his friend, seeing the inner struggle that was going on. He knew Merlin was beating himself up over what had happened and really it was obvious the warlock shouldn't be.

"He wouldn't want me to suffer, either," Merlin muttered after a long and drawn out while of silence on his part. "Besides I'm dying. Gaius said so. Why not just speed it up and end the pain?"

They all had done their best. Arthur had understood the risks and Lancelot believed that the Prince had held out for as long as he could have. It was just plain bad luck that they hadn't reached him time to do anything except be there when he died.

"He needs to be buried, Sire." Gaius softly pointed out to the grieving King, who after relinquishing his grip on Morgana had dropped to the forest floor to scoop up his dead son and hug him to his chest.

"No Gaius," King Uther said in between soft sobs, "Not here. My son belongs in Camelot and it is there where he'll be laid to rest."

Sir Lancelot was listening to their conversation and he was beginning to wonder if the Prince could still yet be saved.

Merlin had said his magic felt different. What about when they got back though? Wouldn't his magic be back to normal? Would it be possible for the warlock to bring Arthur back then? Probably. If only he could convince the younger man to try.

Gaius frowned at the King's suggestion. He didn't think that would be wise or easy to do. However, the physician didn't think he could dissuade Uther from the decision. Looking up at the sky, he saw dark rain clouds fill the sky. "All right, let's go before it storms," Gaius said.

"I'll carry Arthur's body," Percival whispered. He stepped forward and gathered the dead Prince's body into his arms. Weakly, the knight smiled at Uther.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he saw his mother tying to guide him up. Shaking her off, the warlock stood and watched as everyone headed to the machine. With their back to him, Merlin made a move for the gun that had been discarded and held it to his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Gaius had been helping Morgana, but when her good leg hit a rock she was forced to stop a minute. Even though it had hurt like hell, it had allowed her to hear Merlin's whisper. Turning her head she saw the warlock with Arthur's gun pressed against his head. "NO!" she yelled. The echo of her cry seemed to echo through time and space. It seemed as if the entire world slowed down. Slowly, Merlin's finger began to squeeze the trigger just as Morgana raised a hand in Merlin's direction. He had closed his eyes and the tears poured freely down his cheeks. It was apparent that a part of him did not want to die.

There was a small explosion as the gun fired but just as it did Morgana used her magic to knock the gun out of Merlin's hands. The bullet left the chamber, grazing the side of the warlock's head but doing no further damage.

Gwaine immediately turned back, scooping up the gun that had fallen to the ground and placing it in his pocket before he wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulders. The warlock was struggling a little, obviously wanting at the gun so he could go through with his suicide attempt but Gwaine was strong enough to hold him steady.

"Stop Merlin, this isn't the way to go." he muttered in to the younger man's ear. By this time the others had reached the device and were all standing around it, just waiting for Gwaine, Merlin and Hunith to join them.

"You don't understand!" Merlin sobbed out, still fighting against Gwaine, "I failed! There was only one thing I had to do and I couldn't even do that!"

"Merlin," Gwaine said as he moved the warlock in the direction of the machine, "You protected Arthur from anything remotely dangerous for as long as I can remember. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe it's supposed to be this way."

Merlin shook his head. "No, no, no," he whispered. His whole body shook and he felt like his knees could go out at any moment. "It's not! He was destined to do great things. We all supposed to be free." By we, he meant people with magic.

"And I failed and I'm damaged and I don't want to live like this," he moaned.

Gwaine shook his head. "Merlin, it will be all right. Let us help you. We can help you. Please," the man said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "Let's go home. Okay? And then, we'll help you. It will be okay. Just trust me, mate. For the princess."

Merlin couldn't help but laugh at that. It was weak and shaky, but it was still a laugh. "All right," he said. With Gwaine's support, he trudged to the stone.

"Who wants to get us home," asked Gwaine.

"I will," Merlin said. It was the least he could do. Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, he wrapped a hand around the hilt of the sword and pulled. It came out easily under his grasp. As the tip was free, the machine shook and erupted with a bright light that surrounded them.

A moment later, the light faded and they were in the same clearing. But, it was different. It was pitch black. There were no clouds and thousands of stars. Between the tree boughs, Merlin saw Camelot. They were home.

Merlin sat on the wooden stool in Gaius's chambers, trying his best not to watch the physician clean and dress Arthur's body. Merlin scarcely remembered being guided to Gaius's chambers. He didn't even know who had led him (if it matters, it had been the new knight Mordred, who had also been the one to find them). They had gotten back to the castle not twenty minutes ago and already they had learned from Mordred that only three weeks had passed since their disappearance. Even though for them it had been a whole lot longer than three weeks; for the people of Camelot it had been that short a time. It was really hard to believe. In the 21st Century, 2 or 3 years had gone by. Why did only a few weeks pass in Camelot? His head ached just to think about it.

The warlock felt just awful. He felt like he had nothing left to live for. He was such a disappointment to everyone; Arthur included. His mistakes in the long run had wound up getting the Prince killed, so why should he continue living?

"Please Gaius...just let me die..." Merlin murmured; eyes filled with tears.

The older man looked up from where he was just cleaning the dirt off of Arthur's neck.

"Merlin," he said, "Don't give up on yourself. You still have so much to offer everyone. To many, you represent something that they don't have; hope. Hope for a better future."

"But how can there be a better future now that hope is gone?" Merlin asked, gesturing to the corpse on the table. "And no one will understand why I am like I am, what with the headaches and tiredness and depression."

"Because there still may be a way to bring him back. I did not suggest this to the King, because I know he would strongly disagree, but...use your magic Merlin. Try just once more. You are back in Camelot, surely that would make some difference," Gaius said.

Merlin shook his head. "I don't think I can. You saw what happened back there. My magic didn't work. What if it doesn't work again? I can't take much more," the warlock whispered.

Gaius gave him the eyebrow and Merlin gulped. He knew what that meant. "Okay. Okay, I'll try. Only one more time," Merlin whispered.

With a heavy heart, Merlin stood and moved sluggishly over to Arthur's body. Resting his hand on the dead Prince's chest, he chanted, "Ic the thurhhaele thinu licsar mid tham sundorcraeft thaere ealdan ae!"

Gasping, Merlin stepped back. His head was pounding and heart was thudding in his chest, trying to escape. All color had drained from his face and sweat poured down his face. The warlock felt drained as he sat down heavily in the stool behind him.

Immediately Gaius got up and wet down a cloth in cool water, pressing it against the warlock's forehead. "Just take some slow, deep breaths," he muttered to him. When he was sure that Merlin wasn't just going to drop the cloth the physician returned to Arthur's body and even though he doubted there would be anything, he checked one last time for vital signs.

Merlin saw spots before his eyes. Oh great, he was going to pass out. Before that could happen, the warlock leaned forward and rested his head in his hands.

As Gaius soothed his brow, the young man listened to his guardian's instructions. Lightly, Merlin nodded; it seemed to work, although his heart was racing. "I don't feel very good," he muttered, taking the cloth. With the damp fabric, Merlin dabbed the sweat from his brow – it was making him feel better.

Unbelievably Gaius felt a strong pulse tapping against his index and middle finger when he pressed them against Arthur's neck. Lowering his head down close to Arthur's mouth Gaius could hear and feel the gentle inhalation as the Prince took a soft breath.

"Sire, can you hear me?" Gaius asked, bathing Arthur's face in cool water as the color slowly returned to his face. When Arthur gave a small cough and then opened his eyes a little, Gaius couldn't help but smile.

Hearing Gaius speak, Merlin frowned. His head shot up as he hastily stood. Wavering on the spot, Merlin used the table for support. Hearing Arthur's cough he let out a tear-choked laugh. That sound was the loveliest thing he had ever heard.

The moment of adrenaline that had spurred his excitement waned. He was again left empty and exhausted as he wavered on the spot. Wearily, the warlock sat down – his gaze never leaving Arthur's face.

Having a feeling that the Prince's throat would be dry; the physician helped Arthur to drink a small amount of water all the while Merlin was busy trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

"Where...?" Arthur croaked out, eyes searching around the room, focusing on Merlin for a moment.

"You are back in Camelot, Sire," Gaius replied, preventing Arthur from trying to rise up, "everyone made it back, everyone is fine."

Arthur looked relieved to hear that but obviously worried when he saw the condition of his friend and manservant. "Merlin?" he whispered, still eying the younger man.

Merlin stood when he heard his name. Staggering over to Arthur, he sat down. "How are you feeling," Merlin asked. His tone was oddly automatic and devoid of emotion. Nervously, he picked at the scabbed spot where the bullet had grazed his temple.

"Cold...tired...have a huge headache..." Arthur murmured in reply, his eyes taking in Merlin's countenance. He saw the scab on Merlin's head and realized it to be fresh.

"But, you're alive. That's all that matters," Merlin whispered. He felt about the same way, but worse – he felt way worse. "You'll warm up."

"What happened to you?" he asked as Gaius came with a blanket and helped to cover him up before leaving to inform the King.

"I thought I had failed. I tried twice to heal you back in the woods; in that other time, but I couldn't. I ended up trying to kill myself. Morgana stopped the bullet and Gwaine manhandled me over to the machine. But, I felt like I failed. Gwaine got attacked by serkets because I triggered a trap door. I nearly drowned when a trap was triggered. I went into the lake to save someone who wasn't there. It all delayed getting to you. Then, my magic wouldn't work right. And I'm dying, at least according to Gaius. I think he's right," Merlin babbled, to tired to realize he was doing that.

Arthur blinked, trying to process all that. It was a lot of information to take in all at once. However one thing that Merlin said stuck with him. "Dying? You can't be dying...Gaius...must have overreacted," the Prince murmured. He couldn't believe that Merlin was dying even though the younger man did look quite ill.

"But, I am and…and Gaius doesn't seem to have a cure," Merlin stammered. "I was out for almost three hours after I nearly drowned. I stopped breathing. I think my heart stopped too. My pulse won't slow down. He thinks my blood pressure's too high. Last Gaius checked I had a fever. My body's failing. Soon my organs will and there'll be no helping it. Gaius even wanted to take me back to the hospital so I could rest and try to heal. But, I wasn't going to go. I didn't want people to stay behind because of me."

Arthur forced himself to sit up; arm muscles shaky and feeling weak from misuse. "Merlin, you didn't fail; not in the slightest. It wasn't your fault that Morgana captured me; there's no one to blame for that, but myself. You saved everyone; you got them to the machine. You got them home. To me that isn't a failure it is a great victory," Arthur said.

He shrugged. "Maybe so, but at the time it didn't seem like it. It still doesn't because I ended up drowning myself and nearly getting Gwaine killed. He got bit by one of the serkets. Those two very foolish mistakes that were all because of me," he whispered. "And I couldn't live with myself."

Merlin looked around. "Speaking of Morgana, where is she?" he asked. He stood shakily and looked around. There was no sign of the witch. "And…and oh Gods…we didn't get everyone. Gwen's in the future." Merlin went back over to Arthur and sank back in the chair. "What are we going to do?"

Arthur rubbed at his face. He had entirely forgotten about Gwen. Surely she, like the rest of them, had gotten her memories back, but if so then why hadn't she been drawn to the device like the rest of them? It had acted like a beacon, drawing everyone towards it. So why hadn't Gwen been enticed by it?

"We'll have to go back for her...but not now. Now we need to...rest...recover, especially you. I'm sure Gaius will find something to help you, all you need do is let him do so and just try to rest yourself," he replied.

Merlin nodded. "Yeah, we will. I doubt shed want to stay especially if she remembered the truth," he said. "I don't think I could return now anyway. I'm not even sure I could move. I'm so tired, Arthur."

He fiddled with Arthur's blanket as he stared at the wall in front of him. "I'll try," Merlin whispered as a promise. "It's not going to be easy, but I'll try."

Merlin couldn't die; Arthur decided that he wouldn't allow it. Merlin was too young and he had so much to offer everyone; he still had so much to say and do. No...this could not be Merlin's end, it just couldn't happen.

"Take as much time as you need off Merlin. You have definitely earned yourself some rest," The Prince said. He was referring to the warlock's duties as his manservant. Yes, Merlin had earned a lot of much needed rest and Arthur would make sure he got it, even if he had to tie the man to his bed.

"Yes, sire," he said. He was too tired to argue or point out that it was a struggle for him not to do something. Yawning and wavering on his seat, he stood. "If you don't mind, It hink I'm going to get started on that." Pushing himself up, he headed up the stairs to his little room. As Merlin lay down, the last thought he had before drifting off was, _We're home._

To be Continued….


End file.
